Legacy
by Ridley C. James
Summary: This series is an offshoot of The Brotherhood, set slightly in the future. Dean and Sam Winchester are still central characters along with Caleb Reaves and Joshua Sawyer. Each chapter is a complete story.
1. Timeless

The Legacy: Timeless

Beta: Tidia

A/N: This is a new series, an off-shoot of The Brotherhood based sometime in the future. Dean, Sam and Caleb are still central characters as The Triad. This is a hiatus project, giving Tidia and I something fun to play with as we wait out Kripke's cliffhanger right along with everyone else, and it has been a lot of fun. It does not mean I'm not going to be writing our normal stuff or cannon any longer;-). I assure you Tidia and I have been planning for season five. You will most definitely need to have read Tidia's story Marked Time to understand what is going on here. You can also check out page three of the profile pages on The Hunter's Tomb for a little introduction. Again, this is a learning process for me so I hope you enjoy and I'd love to hear what you think. Each chapter is a separate story, along the same lines as Conversations, but I wanted to keep them all together as a set to prevent confusion. Tidia will also have her own set of Legacy stories.

RCJ

"_It is the individual only who is timeless." –Eric Hoffer_

"JT?" Sam Winchester pushed his chair back as the gangly teenager stepped in his office. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Uncle Sam." JT jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I hope it's okay we stopped by."

Sam looked around his nephew, the black and tan head popped around the corner. "Of course it's okay. You and D'Artagnan are always welcome here."

JT pushed his long bangs out of his eyes, slapped his jean clad thigh, and signaled to the large German Shepherd he could come in. The dog barked, jumping up on one of the chairs in front of Sam's desk. JT took the other one.

"I know you stay late on Fridays."

Sam reclaimed his chair. His work at the University of Louisville was satisfying but required some juggling of his time. "It's the one day I can get anything done. My students seem to have better things to do at the beginning of a weekend."

"Mom says you don't get out enough."

"That sounds just like your mom. She worries too much."

"Dad thinks she's determined to find you and Uncle Caleb a permanent home and family to call your own. Like the strays that get brought into her clinic."

"I can understand wanting to pawn Caleb off on someone else." Sam laughed. "But your dad's just jealous of the attention we get. Where is he by the way?"

"Dad's in the doghouse for letting Porthos in last night after the stupid mutt cornered a skunk in the barn."

Sam grinned at the thought of the lively, three-legged Boston Terrier bravely defending his turf. "The skunk probably mistook him for its mate."

"It was a long night. James refused to go to bed without him after Ben told him Porthos would get rabies. He tried to talk Dad into letting him sleep on the front porch."

"Who won that battle of wills?" Dean liked to say James was like Sam; Sam could admit there were some similarities. For one, Dean wasn't able to deny his youngest son much.

"Mom soaked Porthos in tomato juice until we could stand him again. He's kind of pink looking, but at least he doesn't stink. I can't say the same for Mom's favorite quilt."

"And your Dad and younger brother lived to see another day."

JT nodded. "It's pretty amazing Jimmy has made it to twelve."

Sam raised a brow. "_You're _pretty lucky to be breathing after that little stunt last weekend." JT was rarely in trouble. In fact, Sam could count the times on one hand his nephew had warranted any punishment, and most of those were linked to his best friend, Max.

Sam liked to think JT was a unique combination, the best of his father, his uncle, and his godfather, with a great compassion he garnered from his mother. He also believed Dean's son was a reflection of what Dean could have been if not for their horrific childhood. JT was walking, talking, breathing proof that something good could come from the worst the world had to offer.

After the war, Sam had been at a loss. Going back to school, trying to rebuild his life as The Scholar, had not been able to soothe some of the deeper wounds he incurred. JT was the catalyst to his healing. His nephew gave him hope. Not until later when Ben came into their lives, and James was born did Sam think he was capable of loving another person quite as much as he loved JT. Of course that was long before Mary came along.

"Did you hear me, Uncle Sam?"

Sam blinked, bringing himself from his thoughts. "I'm sorry." Sam grinned. "What were you saying?"

"I said that's why I'm here."

"Really?"

"Yeah." JT ducked his head, his dark blond hair obscuring his young face. "I apologized to Dad and Uncle Caleb, but I hadn't had the chance to talk to you one on one."

Sam waited for the jade eyes to meet his once more. JT had Dean's eyes and like his dad they reflected whatever was going on inside. "It was a dangerous thing you three did. None of you have any business going on a hunt alone. It's not a game." Sam couldn't help but to think how different the boys' lives were from his, Dean's and Caleb's. They had been protected and sheltered from the worst side of the family business.

"I know. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Max's idea or yours?"

"You know Max." JT shrugged. "But I made the decision to go. And I took Jimmy."

"Not the brightest move." Sam appreciated the fact JT was just as loyal as Dean, and an amazing big brother to boot. "But as I said before, we all make mistakes."

"I just don't want to make any that cost me my hunter's ring."

Sam folded his hands on his desk. "Do you want a ring?"

"Are you kidding?" JT's eyes lit up. "More than anything."

Sam wasn't sure how he felt about that, understanding all the responsibilities and dangers that piece of silver held. He'd run cold, then hot about hunting. Neither emotion had served him well. The Brotherhood was a part of his life, but Sam still wasn't sure if it was a path he would have chosen if it had not been thrust upon him from the beginning. "What about college?"

"Dad says I'm going to college."

"What do you say?"

"Ben says college is awesome." JT shrugged. "Max wants to go somewhere on the west coast. He wants us to room together."

"Let me guess." Sam smiled, imagining what The Advisor's son might find most interesting. "He's going to major in bikini clad girls?"

"With a double minor in lacrosse and food," JT replied.

"That sounds about right, but it still doesn't tell me what you want."

"I think college would be cool. I want to take pictures and hunt, so maybe photo journalism. Grandpa Mac says I can do both."

Sam nodded. "Mackland is a very smart man. He's the reason I finished my law degree. " Sam gestured to the stacks of papers cluttering his desk. If not for Mackland's guidance he would not have been a tenured professor in the Justice Administration department. "But managing two lives isn't always easy."

"I can't imagine not being in The Brotherhood. I've dreamed about it my whole life.

"Then I think you'll find a way to make it work." Sam sighed. Tenacity and determination were two of the more respectable Winchester traits. "But you know it's going to be tough having The Guardian for a dad."

JT grinned. "Try having The Scholar as an uncle and The Knight as a godfather."

Sam nodded, feigning empathy. "Yeah. You're screwed."

"Pretty much." JT reached out and patted D'Artagnan's head. "I'm grounded too."

"Then what are you doing here? Don't tell me you sneaked out and hitched your way into the city." Sam remembered Dean pulling that stunt a time or two when they were kids, but JT was a little less impulsive than his father.

"Uncle Caleb remembered he had to drop something by the school and he convinced Dad he'd being doing him a favor by taking us with him."

"Caleb has business here at the university?" Sam groaned. "Please don't tell me he's dating a co-ed because that's scary even for him."

"No. He's donating a couple of paintings to the new museum. Some of his and some of his mom's."

Sam sat back. "Really? That's the first I've heard of it." The war had changed them all but they had done their share of healing over the years.

"He didn't want to make a big deal of it. Don't tell him I said anything."

"I won't." Sam smiled at the teen. "Maybe you'll donate some of your work some day."

"I don't know about that. I'm not sure my stuff will ever be that good."

"Caleb says you're already great. He would know."

A dimple flashed at the side of JT's mouth. "He has to like them. He has some of the first shots I took as a five-year-old framed and hanging on his wall. It's embarrassing."

"What's wrong with that?" Sam pointed to a black and white portrait sitting on the corner of his desk. It was of a little blond girl in a wooden swing, holding a tattered one-eyed teddy bear. The photograph was one of his favorites of his daughter. "I own a few Jonathan Thomas Winchester originals myself."

"But in the ones Caleb has I cut off D'Artagnan's head." The German Shepherd barked at the sound of his name. JT laughed. "And you can't even tell who you and Dad are; your faces are so out of focus. Don't get me started on the lighting."

Sam laughed at the teen's perfectionist streak. It was a John Winchester trademark. "Caleb was probably still using crayons at that age. Look how far he's come."

"Yeah. Maybe." JT held up a manila envelope. "He's the one who said I should give you this. He thought it would be a perfect apology."

Sam took the package, his curiosity piqued. "I'm almost afraid to look."

"It's not my best work, but the subject was nice."

Sam slipped the photo out. It was Clara. "Wow. JT, this is great."

"Dad said she was a friend of yours?"

Sam traced a finger over the glossy 8x10, thinking of the choices he'd made in the twenty years since he'd last seen Clara. "She could have been."

Caleb wrapped on the door, sticking his head in. "Hey, Dude. You about ready? I promised your old man no unwarranted pit stops for the convicts on house arrest."

"Are we still stopping for pizza on the way home?

"Of course we are. That is if James hasn't taken the car for a joyride." Caleb mussed the teen's long hair. "Why don't you go make sure your kid brother isn't hot-wiring anything or trying out his over zealous charm on any of the pretty co-eds? I'll be down in a second."

"Sure thing." JT stood." See ya later, Uncle Sam. Let's go, D'Artagnan."

Sam watched the boy and his dog leave. "The Knight doing carpool duty now?"

Caleb shrugged. "I had some things I needed to take care of in the same vicinity."

"Like pit stops for pizza?" Sam leaned back in his chair, propping his hands behind his head. " I thought the boys were grounded."

"Even prisoners are allowed meals."

"I'm not sure if Juliet will agree with your reasoning."

"What?" Caleb frowned. "The woman loves me. I can do no wrong."

Sam snorted. "And here I was thinking she tolerated you for the sake of her relationship with Dean."

Caleb leaned on the back of one of the chairs. "It was kind of a package deal considering the whole Triad thing."

"I'm sure she's rethought the wisdom of her choice over the years."

"We've all done our fair share of that." Caleb gestured to the picture on the desk. "I hope it was okay I told JT to give you that."

"It was fine." Sam picked up the photograph, studying the curve of Clara's mouth. "JT's got a real gift."

"Speaking of gifts." Caleb claimed a seat on the edge of Sam's desk. "What are you up to tonight? Juliet mentioned fried chicken. I can probably finagle you an invite since I'm her favorite."

"And you think Jimmy's over zealous." Sam shook his head. "I'm working late."

"What about the runt?"

Sam frowned at the hand-me-down nickname his daughter had inherited. "Mary is spending the night with Jocelyn. Carolyn is picking her up at school."

Caleb laughed. "That explains why Max left a message begging to do some extra training at the farm this weekend."

"Isn't he grounded too?"

"Oh yeah. Joshua's not letting him out of his sight. And I'm thinking a night of dealing with the two princesses will be bonus torture. Maybe they'll braid his hair, or paint his toe nails while he's sleeping. They have a mean streak a mile wide."

Sam picked up his pen, glancing at the papers again. "I think you're enjoying his suffering a little too much."

"Are you kidding? Do you not remember the nanny hell I endured as a knight in training? John scarred me for life."

"If only Dad knew he was providing practical skills for your lifelong profession of caring for the Winchester children."

"It's not a half-bad gig." Caleb smiled. "And I finally get to be the Godfather of something."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Let's not forget you take a perverse pleasure in twisting Joshua's son into your image."

Caleb's face lit up. "Ain't Karma a bitch. It's almost like Deuce and I cooked Max up in a mad laboratory somewhere. He's awesome. I couldn't love him more if he sprang from my own loins."

"From some of the stunts he pulls I'm not sure he didn't." Sam waggled his brows. "You sure you and Carolyn never…"

"What?" Caleb shook his head. "That woman loves me, but I couldn't do that to Josh, seeing as how he's my brother and all."

"Right." Sam made a note, flipped over another paper. Joshua was Caleb's brother when it was convenient. "Don't you think it's about time you found a wife of your own?"

"I could say the same for you, Sammy." Caleb jutted his chin to Sam's cluttered desk. "You use work as a distraction."

Sam sighed. "We've had this conversation." He'd had similar ones with his brother and Mackland.

"Yeah, but being a single dad opens so many doors. Mary is almost as much of a chick draw as you used to be. You wouldn't believe the phone numbers I got when I took her and Jocelyn to the zoo."

"You're shameless."

"I am." Caleb smiled. "So about the invite…are you coming to the farm? I know for a fact there are going to be unexpected guests. Just because you don't want to take the big plunge doesn't mean you can't have a hell of a good time playing in the pool."

Sam groaned. "More women?"

"Juliet isn't going to give up." Caleb crossed his arms over his chest. "She wants to see us all sitcom happy and shit, like her and Deuce."

"You're in denial." Sam put down the pen, rubbing his eyes. "She wants rid of us. We're strays-just like JT said."

"That too, but it's a free meal. We could get lucky and score some more chicks from her yoga class. Besides Ben's going back to New York tomorrow. It will be our last chance to gang up on Ace for a while."

"Damn it," Sam growled. The women from the yoga class were nice. "I'm never going to finish these papers."

Caleb shrugged. "Bring them with you. It will make Juliet's guests think you're smart and accomplished seeing as how I've got the good looks and great body covered."

"What happens when you're too old to fall back on old hat?"

"I will never be that old, Sammy."

"Right." Sam gathered his things, knowing Caleb wasn't going to give up on him. "Some things never change."

RCJ

A/N: A couple of people have asked about writing in this slightly altered version of the AU. Tidia and I are always honored when others want to work within The Brotherhood. If you do choose to write a story in this verse, we only ask that you refrain from focusing on characters we haven't sketched out yet, for example Juliet, and that you don't write monumental time-line events such as births, deaths, etc,.


	2. Game Plan

The Legacy: Game Plan

Beta: Tidia

RCJ

"_A grownup is a child with layers on." –Woody Harrelson_

Max didn't understand why baseball was touted as the all American game, the national pastime. From what he understood about baseball it was practically stolen from the English by some guy in New York who wanted a club for him and his knickers wearing buddies. Lacrosse was actually played by the _first_ Americans. Native American tribes used the sport as part of religious rituals, to heal the sick, and prepare for war. Their version of the game could have more than a hundred players and last for days.

Those who took part did so as warriors with the goal of bringing glory and honor to themselves and their tribes. Max could so relate that to his life.

Max was a first string attacker on his Lacrosse team at DuPont Manual and embraced the tactical tenacity and strategy it required, not to mention the fact he got to out maneuver worthy adversaries on a regular basis. To him, baseball seemed mindless and lacking in physical action.

His best friend JT completely disagreed, arguing his position as centerfielder required just as much thought and precision. JT was sort of the 'captain of the outfield' calling off the other outfielders when need be, and covering the most grass of the entire team.

Max didn't exactly buy the Zenness of baseball, but he would give his friend credit. JT was freakishly fast, had an amazing throwing arm, not to mention being a power hitter for his size. JT loved baseball in a way Max was unsure he was capable of feeling for anything. It was one of the reasons Max was now sitting on an uncomfortable bleacher under the blazing sun on a Saturday morning.

Nelson County High couldn't brag about much, but their baseball team was beyond good. The Cardinals had surpassed their coach's hopes of a county title and made it all the way to the final rounds of the District Championship. They had their dreams of sub-state dashed after a hard fought loss the day before, but if the current score held true, they would take a respectable third place to finish off an impressive season.

"It's the bottom of the ninth and Jonathan Winchester is at the bat."

Max rolled his eyes and tossed a piece of popcorn at James. The twelve-year old was loudly broadcasting in his best sportscaster voice from beside him. "Why don't you just ring the cow bell again and draw some more attention our way."

"You're the one who wanted to sit in the first row." James launched a nacho his way and Max avoided the boy's aim.

"I didn't ask you to join me." Max looked over his shoulder, letting his gaze travel over the large expanse of crowd to where his father and Uncle Caleb were sitting near the very top of the stands. Dean, Sam and Ben were one bleacher below them. "I have my reasons for wanting the good view."

James smirked at him from beneath his Nelson County Cardinals hat. "Which is why I'm tolerating your company."

Max jabbed him with his elbow. "What? It's a crime to want to enjoy the game. This is the last one of the season and I want to take it all in."

James snatched Max's half-eaten bag of popcorn and shoveled a handful in his mouth. "You sure have become a dedicated fan since May."

Max focused his attention on the field. He had patiently waited for this particular game, forced to attend every match of the waning season in anticipation of the Cardinal's final play, but it wasn't like he hadn't attended more than his fair share over the years. "I went to all the home games, and a few of the ones on the road."

James swiped his Coke. "To which you brought a book, video game or a date. Sometimes all three."

Max flashed him a grin. "I'm good at multitasking. What can I say?"

"You're good at bullshitting," James countered. "That's what I say."

Max was spared further comment as the crowd roared. After one strike and two balls, JT had smacked one into the outfield over the Galaxy's centerfielder's reach, easily making it to first.

James stood up and rang the cow bell, adding his own shrill whistle and whooping. "Way to go, JT!"

Max pulled on his shirt and tugged him back onto the bleachers. "JT's going to cream you, you idiot." JT might have loved the game, but he didn't like having attention drawn to the fact he was really good at it. James, on the other hand, lived to be noticed.

"I don't think so." James gave him a knowing look. "He'll have bigger fish to fry after the game."

The next batter hit a pop fly, which was caught by the Galaxy's shortstop. That left the Cardinals with two outs, but still holding their five run advantage.

"I need you to do me a favor."

James's gaze narrowed. "What kind of favor?"

Max held up JT's camera. "Make sure you get some shots of your brother for prosperity."

"You mean distract him?"

"I mean grab a memory for his scrapbook. I know he likes to take shots of the team, and how many players go to districts with varsity their freshman year?"

James took the camera. "You know JT hates to have his picture taken."

"I'm sure you'll convince him that your mom will appreciate it since she had to work."

"You want me to play the 'Mom' card."

"You know JT will buy it." Max sighed. His best friend was the consummate mama's boy. "And I'll give you twenty bucks."

"I want to see the money up front."

"You're an extortionist, you know that?"

"Grandpa Mac says I have a good head for business so I prefer the term entrepreneur or tycoon, if you must." James held out his hand. "You better hurry. Stevens is up next and he always strikes out when the pressure is on."

Max reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, handing it over to James along with his keys. "Just hold onto these for me."

James slipped the wallet into his back pocket with a smile, tossing the key ring and catching it. "No problem, but playing coat check will cost you an extra five."

"Fine." Max reached up and slipped the silver amulet he wore from around his neck, handing it over. "Only if you keep an eye on this, too."

James took the dragon pendant, glancing down at the matching one resting against his chest. "We're not supposed to take them off."

The amulets were a gift from their Uncle Bobby. Ben and JT had similar ones, each dragon slightly different. They offered protection from possession and countless other things that went bump in the night, but also bound them to something bigger. "I don't want the strap to get broken."

James took the amulet, his eyes darkening with seriousness. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Max's mouth twitched, as he pulled his hair back in a low pony tail to secure it with a leather tie. "Oh, I've wanted to do this for a very long time."

Another thunderous roar from the crowd heralded the official end of the game and Max felt a rush of energy pulse through him, just like when he was crossing into the enemy's territory on the lacrosse field out for blood and victory. He stood, stepping from the stands so he would be the first to congratulate the winning centerfielder for the Nelson County Cardinals. Abe Lundy was about to meet his biggest fan.

The senior standout was just over six feet, not more than an inch taller than Max. He weighed in at 183 with a decent batting average. He was first string and had been one of the star players for the Cardinals since he was a sophomore. Max had first studied his stats when JT was trying out last year. In theory, the coach planned for JT to be Lundy's protégé. Turned out that JT's reputation preceded him and Abe wasn't happy about the competition.

"Hey, man. Great game." He caught up with the golden boy exiting the dugout with the majority of his team. JT had to come in from second base. James would intercept him.

"Thanks." Abe tried to step around him, but Max anticipated the move and blocked him. "You're Abe Lundy? The player the college scouts are here to see. Right?"

"Yeah." The dark-haired guy looked at Max. "Do I know you?"

"Probably not. I'm Max Sawyer. I go to Montreal."

"Okay. Do you want an autograph or something?"

"Wow." Max laughed. "You do think a lot of yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"I figured you might want to know my name."

"Why would I want to know your name, kid?"

Max dropped the fake smile. "Because I'm the guy who is going to kick your ass."

He would admit the first punch was fast and dirty, but enjoyed the look of shock and surprise on Abe's face. Max imagined it was kind of how JT felt when Lundy turned on him.

Max gave Abe a few seconds to recover, a chance to take a swing at him before hitting the guy a second time. He didn't want it to be over too quickly.

Lundy finally grasped what was going on and attempted to fight back as a few of his teammates picked up on the testosterone in the air and circled them, yelling, "_FIGHT_!" The jerk got lucky with a jab, but the pain didn't register with Max.

He was in attack mode now, delivering each strike like a combat plane executing a finely planned bombing maneuver. Not one of Abe's buddies offered to step up to help the guy out when it was obvious he was getting pummeled. Further proof Lundy was getting exactly what he deserved.

"Max! Stop it."

JT's voice cut through the white noise, but only increased Max's fervor to finish the job before the grown-ups caught whiff of what was going on. A part of him realized he was on the ground straddling Lundy who was doing a piss poor job of blocking Max's blows, no longer returning any of his own.

This was the point where Max was supposed to stop. In the countless times he'd run it through his mind, Max would let himself go only so far as to inflict the sufficient amount of retribution deserved. He would then grab the guy by the shirt front and whisper menacingly in his ear that if he went near JT again he'd be back to finish what he started. He'd then leave the hot shot Abe for public spectacle, adding in humiliation like a cherry on top.

All strategy went out the window. There was a rushing in his ears, his heart thundering against his chest fueled by exertion and adrenaline. Max no longer felt his fist striking Abe's face nor did he hear the taunts of the crowd. He was strangely disconnected from it all, cast out of his body, watching the scene unfold before him along with the other spectators.

"Maxim!" His father's voice snapped him back to himself, but his hands continued their onslaught on autopilot. "That's enough. Let him up."

"Stop it." Caleb grabbed him by the shoulders, hauling him up and off of Lundy. "It's over." Max tried to jerk away, but his uncle held firm, dragging him out of the crowd before turning him loose.

Max braced his hands on his knees, panting hard as he tried to get his breathing under control, pull himself back together. "What the hell was that all about, Kid?"

He ignored the question, staring past Caleb to where his father, Ben and Sam were among those helping the Lundy kid up. Abe was a bloody mess, but he was on his feet.

The sound of a cowbell had him looking up. James and JT were heading his way. James gave him a thumbs up sign, then performed an exaggerated referee motion. "Lundy is out of there!"

"James." Dean grabbed the bell from his son, giving him a look that had the twelve-year-old instantly dropping his goofy grin. He hung back by his father's side, scraping the ground with his shoe.

JT kept coming towards him and Max wondered for a moment if his best friend might punch him. The younger teen had no problem fighting with Max if provoked. "What did you do?"

Max squared his shoulders, flexing his throbbing fists. He wasn't expecting a pat on the back. "What I should have done four months ago."

JT shoved him. "You just couldn't leave it alone."

Max shoved him back, his own temper kicking in again. "Sorry I'm not into turning the other cheek, JT."

"You lied to me."

"I told you I wouldn't do anything during the season and I didn't." Technically, Max had kept his word. "The season's officially over."

Caleb stepped in between them, grabbing Max's shirt. "Cool off." He turned to JT. "You too, Johnny."

JT bit his lip, his voice dropping. "I wish I had never told you."

"That makes two of us," Max growled.

"Don't worry. I won't make the same mistake again."

JT brushed past him, roughly bumping his shoulder as he headed for the gate.

"Good to know!" Max called after him, mumbling under his breath. "You're welcome, by the way."

"You want to answer Caleb's earlier question, Rocky?"

The Guardian was staring at him and Max admitted to himself that he hadn't exactly thought through all the repercussions. He swallowed hard, tasting the metallic twang of blood. One of Lundy's shots had split his lip. "Not really, Sir."

"How about your manager, Mickey?" Caleb gestured to James. "I'm guessing he was in your corner from the beginning."

James folded his arms over his chest. "I was only responsible for the cowbell."

Max's stomach clenched as he caught sight of his father stalking towards them, Sam and Ben in his wake.

"The other kid okay?" Dean asked.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "The paramedics are checking him out. He's going to be in a world of hurt tomorrow, but I think he's okay."

Max's dad stopped mere inches in front of him, eyes scanning Max's shirt then his face. "Are you alright?"

The question voiced with quiet concern surprised Max and increased the guilt JT's accusation dredged up. He glanced down at his shirt, noticing the splattered blood and fought hard not to flinch when his dad reached up and touched the throbbing spot just under his left eye. "Yeah." He cleared his throat. "I'm fine, Dad."

"Then get your things. We're leaving." All warmth vanished from his father's tone. "Give your keys to your uncle. You'll be riding with me."

"But Ben and James rode here with me…"

"That's not a problem." His dad exchanged a look with Dean. "We're going to the farm to straighten out this mess. They can ride with us."

Max rubbed his aching gut. "Great."

"Hand them over." Uncle Caleb held out his hand.

Max didn't meet his gaze as he gestured to James with his chin. "Jimmy has them."

James handed over the keys to the Tahoe. "Can I ride with you, Uncle Caleb?"

"No way." Dean was the one to answer. "You're stuck with the horse you rode in on, Bud."

Max, resigned to his fate, turned to follow after his father.

Ben asked for clemency. "Then can I ride with Caleb? I had no clue I'd hitched a ride with outlaws."

"Sorry, kiddo. Medical aid may be needed."

Max watched his Dad stomp towards the Mercedes and wondered if The Guardian might be right. So much for best laid plans.

RcJ*SnsnsnsnsN*RcJ

"Here slugger this will help with the eye." Ben offered him an ice pack, taking the empty chair beside him at the table so he could get better access to Max's bruised face. Max had been ushered into the kitchen by his father upon arrival. Uncle Caleb and Sam were there, but no sign of JT. "Anything feel broken?"

Max pulled away from the medical student's prodding. "I'm good, man."

"Let him look at you, Maxim."

The use of his full name and his father's scowl left no room for reproach. They hadn't talked on the way back to the Winchester's and Max wondered if his father was using a parental tactic. He sat back in the chair and let Ben have his fun. He had worse in lacrosse or from one of their Sunday afternoon flag football games. Sparring had also left him with more than one black eye over the years. No one raised such a fuss about any of those times, except for his mom.

To his credit Ben hurried the process along. "I have good news and bad news." He repositioned the ice, guiding Max's hand to hold it before turning to address the panel of adults in the room. "The good news is it all seems to be superficial damage, bad news, there is no cure for terminal ugliness."

"Dickhead," Max muttered.

Ben winked at him. "I can probably scrounge up a lollipop if it will make the little guy feel better."

Dean used his ball cap to smack Ben on the back of the head. "We didn't ask for your bedside humor, Ace."

Ben stood, patting his hair in place. "My talent is obviously wasted here."

"Maybe we should get a second opinion. Ben did get that D in organic chemistry this term." Max turned to where James was leaning against the refrigerator, sharing his left over popcorn with Porthos. The younger teen met his gaze before raising a challenging brow to Ben. "Oops. Was I not supposed to mention that, Bro?"

Ben took a step towards James. "You're dead."

Uncle Caleb snagged his arm. "How about you take him out to the barn and do the deed? Less of a mess for your mom to come home to."

"That's a good idea." Dean nodded. "Feed the horses and clean out the stalls while you're out there."

James groaned in protest, but made his way towards the door. "I never get to stay for any of the good stuff."

"That's okay, Brat." Ben gave him a hard shove. "We should still be able to hear Max scream if the interrogation turns ugly."

"Thanks for the support." Max lifted the bag of ice towards Ben, making sure his middle finger was positioned just so.

James stopped by his chair, offering Max's dragon necklace. "I don't know if it protects you from the good guys, but better safe than sorry." He faced the grown-ups in the room. "Just so you know, if that ox Lundy hadn't had at least sixty pounds and a dozen or so inches on me, I would have taken him out myself," James added.

"Duly noted." Dean pointed towards the door. "Now scram."

"I think now would be a good time for you to take leave also." His dad was talking to Caleb. Max had been counting on one person in his corner.

"What? Why?"

"Because I hold you partially responsible for this latest debacle," Dad replied.

Sam quickly stepped in between Max's father and his uncle. "This isn't exactly a Triad matter, Caleb. Maybe we should head to the Tomb and get a jump on that hunt we were talking about earlier?"

Max knew exactly which hunt Sam was referring to. Uncle Caleb had promised to let him tag along. That was probably out of the question now.

Caleb sidestepped Sam. "What do you mean it's my fault?"

"I mean your insidiousness has obviously corrupted my son. What should I expect next? A trip to The Red Caboose?"

Max snorted under his breath. "Ben already beat him to that one."

Both his uncle and father looked at him.

"He what?"

"What did you say?"

Max slid down a notch or two, hunching his shoulders. "Nothing."

"Come on, man." Sam grabbed Caleb's arm. "It's really not any of our business. Let's leave this to the guys with the genetic obligation."

"Fine." Caleb relented and Max had a fleeting desire to beg him to stay. "I'll remember this the next time someone needs an impromptu babysitter."

Max fingered the dragon pendant, shifted in the seat as Dean and his father turned their full attention on him. "What now?"

"How about you start by explaining what possessed you to attack one of JT's teammates?" His dad stepped forward. "Do you understand you could have seriously injured that boy?"

Max folded his arms over his chest. There was no wiggle room around the promise he had made to JT about not telling anyone about Lundy. "The guy had it coming."

"Somehow I don't believe Abe Lundy's parents or the authorities, if they are so duly informed by said family, will take that as a sufficient defense for your behavior. Please tell me there is more to the story than adolescent hormones."

Dean took one of the chairs and turned it around before straddling it like a saddle. "No need for the silent treatment. I sent Sammy shotgun with Caleb so JT and I would have a chance to talk on the way back to the farm."

Max met The Guardian's gaze. "Yeah?"

"He told me about the hazing."

Max's father took a seat. "What kind of hazing?"

Dean lifted a brow. "You want to tell him, Slick?"

Max rubbed the braided leather of his necklace between his fingers, remembering the day JT gave it to him on Max's ninth birthday party. JT was determined to bring his own gift, besides the typical parent purchased loot. "Lundy has been tormenting JT since he made the team this spring, giving him a hard time for being the only freshman, making sure he knows his place." Max wrapped the black stained leather around his bruised, swollen knuckles. "He's only jealous because JT is better than he is and was stealing his thunder."

"JT said he told you about the first incident with the black eye."

"In February." Max nodded. "I wanted to go beat the shit out of the creep then, but JT wouldn't hear any of it. You know how he is. JT sees people differently, like he's looking through some rose-colored camera lens. Lundy deserved to have his ass kicked months ago for some of the shit he pulled, but JT didn't fight back because he thought he had too much of an advantage because of our training, because he didn't want to pit the team against each other. He was trying to do the right thing and be the bigger man."

Dean ran a hand over his mouth. "JT has a lot of his Uncle Sam in him."

"It's not like it's bad thing." Max respected that JT took the high road, dragging Max along with him. "I mean he gets on my nerves with the Eagle Scout shit sometimes, but it's who he is."

His father was watching him. "So JT made you promise to keep quiet?"

JT had made him give his word. Max had added the part about staying out of it until the end of the season. "He said he'd handle it his own way and he clammed up about what was going on; acting as if things had gotten better. Like I'd believe Lundy all of sudden started to play nice, especially when he started getting bench time with JT on the field."

Dean leaned back in his chair. "That where Jimmy came in?"

"James kept me informed about everything." Max had written every injury in his journal, every hint of wrongdoing on Abe's part. It was harder to hide things from a guy you shared a bathroom with. "But he didn't know what I was planning today. No one did."

"You should have told one of us, Maxim." His father leaned his elbows on his knees waiting for Max to meet his blue gaze. "JT could have been hurt. The Lundy boy needed to be punished by the appropriate people."

Max rolled his eyes. Sometimes his Dad didn't have a clue. "The Brotherhood punishes people all the time."

His father looked to The Guardian and Dean focused on Max again. "That what you had planned? To punish Lundy for his crimes?"

"It didn't really turn out like I planned." Max stared at the flakes of red embedded in the fibers of his jeans. "I didn't mean to get so carried away."

"You let the monster out of the cage, Kid. It ain't always of a mind to go back in."

Max held Dean's green eyes, swallowing to dislodge the lump in his throat. "I wanted to hurt him like he hurt JT."

"Revenge is a slippery slope, kiddo."

Max licked his lips. "He's my best friend."

"I've got one of those," Dean said. "I know how it is."

"But it does not excuse what you did, Son," his father added. "I understand wanting to protect your friend, your family, but you must be careful of the lines you're willing to cross. For some of them there are no ways to step back over."

Max looked at his father. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"We'll talk about it more when we get home." His Dad stood, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze. He and Dean exchanged another look that let Max know he wasn't completely off the hook yet. "Now I better go smooth things over with your uncle before I'm forced to find a proper nanny for your sister."

Max waited for his father to leave before facing The Guardian again, willing to accept whatever punishment Dean would dole out. "I guess you're pretty pissed at me."

Dean looked at him. "You know I was about your age the first time I really, really wanted to hurt someone. The guy totally deserved it. He was a piece of shit mean drunk who beat his son. One day Sammy got in the way and this bastard hit him."

This was a story Max was unfamiliar with, but knew well enough the lengths The Guardian would go to when his family was threatened. Some of the things Dean Winchester had done was the stuff of legends. "Did you kill him?"

"Almost," Dean said. "Turned out the guy's skull was like reinforced steel."

"What happened?"

"I went to jail."

Max winced. "And I thought an interrogation at the farm was bad."

"You boys have things a little differently than we did back in the day."

Max had heard the stories of The Triad's childhood, read journals about them. He knew how lucky he, Ben, JT and James were. "I know."

Dean's face grew more serious. "We're all grateful for that, but I forget some things are still the same." He leaned forward. "I'm also grateful for that."

Max frowned. "I'm not sure I'm following you."

"You were protecting JT, righting a wrong done to him. As much as I want to protect you boys, I also want you to know how to look out for one another. It's important you learn to defend what's yours."

"I would do anything for JT and James."

"Like I said, some things never change."

Max arched a brow. "Does this mean I'm getting close to getting my hunter's ring?"

"No." Dean laughed. "It most certainly does not mean that."

Max was relieved The Guardian didn't seem disappointed in what he done, but that still left the gnawing feeling in Max's gut, the one that had nothing to do with Lundy's right jab. "About what you said earlier…what if I can't get the monster back in the cage?"

"Wrestling that monster is what growing up and becoming the man you're meant to be is all about."

"What if I lose the battle? Turn out wrong?" Max licked his lips. "If Uncle Caleb hadn't pulled me off Lundy…" Max let the thought trail off, unable to even think what he might have been capable of doing.

"The fact you're worried about it tells me you've already got a leg up, kiddo."

"Then you don't think what I did was wrong?"

"I'm not saying it was right."

"There's a difference?"

Dean smiled. "Right and wrong are sometimes really hard to apply when it comes to matters of the heart. A smart guy once told me that love is the strongest force of nature, capable of making a person do great, beautiful, and terrible things. Understand?"

Max frowned. "I don't love JT or anything."

The Guardian laughed. "Of course not." He stood, pushing his chair back under the table. "And if you did you'd never admit it because Caleb and I raised you right."

"Yeah." Max forced a half smile of his own. "Your influence is insidious."

"Speaking of that, I better go smooth some feathers myself."

Max stood also. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop JT from getting hurt."

Dean paused in the doorway. "You won't always be able to keep those you love from getting hurt, Son. Sometimes the most you can do is be there to pick up the pieces." He pointed to the stairs at the far end of the kitchen. "JT is up in his room if you want to say goodbye before you go."

"Considering I could be grounded for the entire summer, that's probably a good idea."

Dean reached out and ruffled his hair. "If you're lucky maybe only half the summer, Slick."

"Great."

Max slid his amulet over his head and took the stairs to JT's room slowly. He knocked on the half open door but didn't wait for JT to ask him in before entering. JT had taken over Ben's old room when the eldest Winchester brother moved to New York on a more permanent basis, moving out of the connecting one he and James used to share.

JT was at his desk, a strip of negatives spread out in front of him. D'artagnan greeted Max with thumping tale. JT didn't turn around. He cleared his throat. "Dad and I are about to take off."

JT put his pen down and turned around. "Are you in trouble?"

Max took that as a white flag and grabbed a seat on JT's neatly made bed. "Not as much trouble as I would have been in if you hadn't talked to your Dad about Lundy."

JT shrugged. "I probably should have told him a long time ago."

"Still, I'm sorry what I did forced your hand."

JT turned in his seat, grabbing a baseball from his desk. He tossed it in the air and caught it. "Is that the only thing you're sorry for?"

Max crossed his arms over his chest. "Dude, I'm not sorry about Lundy even if it didn't go precisely as I planned."

"When do any of your plans go smoothly?"

His best friend had a point. "Doesn't stop you from going along with most of them."

"Someone has to keep you out of trouble."

"I guess I went a little over the top this time, even for me."

"You can't go around beating up every guy I have a problem with."

"Says the dude who pushed a ten-year old off his bike for teasing Jimmy."

"That was like three years ago and Lane Matthews isn't typical. He's had the same training we have. It was a fair fight."

"Still, you did it because he was giving James a hard time."

"Maybe." JT tossed him the baseball.

Max was beginning to realize there was something he cared about the way JT cared about baseball. He tossed the ball back.

JT caught it, returning it with a little more heat.

Max didn't wince despite the sting of leather against his palm. "I kept your secret." He returned the ball with just as much force. "Even when I knew I shouldn't."

JD fired it back. "It was my problem to deal with."

This time Max held the ball. "Do you remember what you said to me on my ninth birthday?"

JT's brow furrowed his green eyes traveling to the necklace lying against Max's shirt. "That was a long time ago."

JT had a mind like a camera lens, capturing everything in finite detail. Max didn't share his best friend's freakish ability, yet that one moment was forever etched in his memory-JT holding the leather cord out to him, pointing to the matching one around his own neck. _"Now you and me are the same."_ JT might have been talking about the cords, but the words had taken on a life of their own for Max. "If someone messes with you, they're messing with me, too. That's just the way it is."

JT sighed. "So this is all my fault?"

Max grinned, tossing the ball back to his friend. "That's always my story. I'm sticking to it."

JT caught it, placing it back in its spot on his desk before turning his gaze to Max. "I knew you were going to do it before the game even started. A part of me didn't want to stop you."

Max leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You going all psychic on me?"

"It's what I would have done had the situation been reversed."

Max felt the knots in his stomach start to loosen for the first time since leaving the ball park. "Really?"

"I would have had a better plan, and not so many witnesses, but yeah."

Max laughed. "Without witnesses where's the glory? I might as well have clobbered him in a dark parking lot."

"Should I point out that our dads would have never had a clue, we wouldn't have to go through the torture of explaining it all to our moms, and you wouldn't be facing eminent grounding if that had been the case?"

"It could have gone unsaid, Dude."

JT smirked. "Sorry."

"Yeah." Max nodded. "Me too."

Max had a feeling growing up wasn't going to always go like he planned, but as long as he had the people he loved in his corner, he'd finish the game honorably.

RCJ


	3. The Ties That Bind

_Legacy:_ Ties That Bind

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Tidia has called this the summer of fluff. I have to agree seeing as how we haven't really embraced a plot in a while. I hope you all are enjoying the little reprieve as much as we are. Big thanks to those who have reviewed! Your comments and thoughts are always so helpful.

RCJ

_"__By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he's wrong.__" __-Charles Wadworth_

Dean turned at the sound of the screen door, watched as Caleb struggled to make his way out onto the porch with his plate and drink in one hand. His right arm was in a soft cast secured by a sling so not to jostle his injured shoulder. Dean resisted his first instinct to come to his best friend's aid.

"You could offer some help here, Deuce."

"That would entail me getting up." Dean kicked back in the porch swing, managing a smile as Caleb made it to one of the rockers without dropping his food. "I'm not buying into the poor pitiful me racket you got going on."

"What?" Caleb put on his most innocent face, made more believable by the bruises and white bandage across his forehead. "I'm not faking the broken arm or the superficial damage, Dude. I could have been killed."

"True." Dean kept his poker face in place, unwilling to acknowledge the botched hunt had shaken him. Caleb had been working with two inexperienced hunters, and Dean felt responsible for not being there to watch his back. Between working at his garage in town, managing the boys, and keeping up with Brotherhood business, Dean couldn't exactly take on minor, spur of the moment hunts. He could divide his attention, but not even The Guardian could physically be in more than one place. "And you're enjoying taking advantage of it."

"Are you accusing me of working the injured angle?"

Caleb had taken advantage of JT's party, playing on the women's sympathies. Dean gestured to the ridiculous slice of birthday cake, banked with three scoops of chocolate ice cream. "Did Juliet dish that out or was it that woman Carolyn invited?" Dean snapped his fingers. "What was her name? Lidia?"

"Lidia." Caleb rolled his eyes, nearly spilling his drink as he leaned forward to place it on a planter. "Despite being hot and having legs up to her neck, that chick scares me. Way too intense and no taste in men. Maybe it's a European thing, but she seems to go for the geeky, ugly type."

Dean laughed. "Meaning she's into Sammy?"

"Looks like." Caleb balanced the Batman plate on his knees and dug into the cake with his uninjured hand. "Her loss. Juliet fixed my plate for me. I got the second piece of cake after the birthday boy." He gave Dean a lascivious smirk. "Your woman offered to feed me."

"Don't get too excited." Dean snorted. "I've seen her get up around the clock to nurse orphaned baby pigs. She's notorious for taking pity on the most disgusting creatures."

"She did hook up with you." Caleb took a drink of green punch made in honor of JT's current favorite color. "After you told her Sam and I were gay and in a relationship, I might add. Her options were limited."

Dean grinned at the memory. "If I remember correctly, she thought I was very open-minded and supportive of my best friend dating my little brother."

Caleb licked black icing from the back of his spoon. "You were smart to knock her up before she could learn the truth about you."

"Lucky for you, too, or there would be no cake today." JT had been a surprise, one that forced Dean to prioritize.

"I can't believe JT is five." Caleb shook his head.

"At this rate, his godfather won't be around to see him turn six." Dean was only half joking.

"Stop with the girly pouting, Deana. I'm good. Everyone lived to fight another day."

Dean leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. The two hunters in question would not be getting rings anytime soon. "I told you to take Sam or Ethan with you when training rookies." He appreciated Caleb's dedication, but he also didn't want his friend to end up another statistic in Riley's chart on the Knight's fatality rate.

"You _suggested_ it."

"What you call a suggestion, The Guardian calls an order." They had officially been the Triad for almost a decade and Caleb still had a problem with following the chain of command when it inconvenienced him.

Caleb ignored the reprimand. "It blows my mind that the rug rat will be in kindergarten this fall and Ace will be a senior."

Dean grunted at Damien's cunning redirect. "Tell me about it." He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure if being a father or The Guardian was more stressful. Juliet often joked that Caleb and Sam were Dean's oldest children. He was beginning to think she was right.

"He'll be going to college soon."

Dean shook his head. Sam had driven that fact home by bringing over the Stanford catalogs that morning. "The first time I saw Ben was at his eighth birthday party and now he's almost ready to strike out on his own."

"That's a good thing," Caleb mumbled around a mouthful of cake. "Right?"

"I guess." It was one more situation Dean couldn't control.

"You don't sound so sure."

"This next year will fly by." It wasn't like with JT and James where Dean had been witness to first steps, first words. His youngest sons were still babies in his eyes, easy to shelter and protect. Dean hadn't found out the truth about Ben until his son was already a young man. Missing out on all those years in between was his biggest regret. He couldn't blame Lisa. She was doing what she thought was right for their son, and it was damn hard to be pissed at a dead woman. "Sometimes when I think back to that whole changeling gig I wish I had pushed Lisa a little harder, demanded to see the results of that alleged blood test."

"You weren't exactly in the best place to be making demands, Deuce. There was the deal, and then Lucifer. You saved Ben's life. If you remember anything about that time that should be what you focus on."

"I could have gone back after the war." He looked at Caleb. "I knew that kid was mine, whether I was too afraid to admit it or not."

"You believed what you needed to believe. You did the best thing for Ben at the time."

"Maybe." Dean wanted to believe his subconscious and his heart had been in the right place.

"If you'd gone back you might have missed out on Juliet, and in turn, JT and James. Ben would have missed out on them, too. Jim always said things happen for a reason, man. We're all living proof of that. "

Dean knew Caleb was right, but it still didn't make the facts any less painful. "There hasn't been enough time."

"Dude, he's just going to college, not to war. He'll still be your son. Nothing's going to change that."

"Thanks." Dean rubbed a hand down his mouth. "I think you gave me the same little speech when Sammy ran off to Stanford, Damien."

"Sorry." Caleb shrugged. "I know it didn't make you feel any better back then either." He gave Dean a grin. "We can always go to my place in New York, stay drunk and play video games for a week."

Dean shook his head, refusing to be drawn from his sudden melancholy. "I can't protect him if he's a thousand miles away." Dean was all too aware of the fragility of life, especially when it came to the people he loved. The protectiveness he had always felt for his family magnified when he became a father.

Caleb stopped eating and arched a brow. "That sounds like Johnny talking."

"Yeah. Well maybe Dad was right." Dean stood, leaning against the porch railing. He was getting a whole new prerogative on the situation his father had faced, a new appreciation for what Jim Murphy had endured from the sidelines. "This letting go thing sucks."

"If it's protection you're really worried about, you know I can arrange to have hunters shadow him. He's The Guardian's son. It's warranted." Caleb placed his cake aside. "But if it's something more..."

Dean sighed. "Something's on his mind and for the first time since he came here, he hasn't come to talk to me." Ben was an easy kid, even as a teenager having lost the only parent he'd ever known, he'd flowed with the situation, adapted smoothly. Dean worried that maybe things might have gone too smoothly over the years. He was afraid what his son held back beneath the even demeanor, and worried he had let it slide out of guilt over not being there when Ben was growing up.

"What do you want me to do?"

"See if he'll talk to you." Dean met Caleb's gaze with a slight smile. "See if you can manage it without further injury."

Caleb picked up his plate, handing it to Dean with a wink. "Piece of cake, Deuce."

"I'm glad to see your sense of humor was the one thing that went unscathed."

"Don't get too cocky." Caleb stopped at the door, shooting Dean a grin. "My charm is still intact too, not to mention my six pack abs. Juliet promised to play doctor with me after the party. I think she's reconsidering running away with me since James has ventured into the terrible twos."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Make sure she checks on that concussion again. I think you're still delusional."

Caleb snorted. "Whatever it takes to make you feel better, Deuce."

RCJ

Caleb wrapped his knuckles on the door before sticking his head inside. "Can I come in?"

"You bet." Ben looked up from his computer, flashing a familiar grin. Caleb had never met Ben's mom, Lisa. From the pictures he'd seen, the kid was a fifty-fifty mix of her and Dean with Lisa's dark hair, but Dean's green eyes and freckles. His laid back demeanor was his father's. Dean hadn't called Ben his mini-me all those years ago for nothing. "I think your previous tenant's rights are still active."

Caleb nodded to the 'Do Not Enter' sign on the door. "I wasn't sure who that was directed to."

"Mostly little brothers," Ben said. He rolled his chair away from the desk. "And their annoying friend who never seems to leave."

Caleb assumed Ben was speaking about Max, who would have lived at the Winchester farm if Joshua and Carolyn had permitted it. "Does it work?"

"I'll let you know when they all learn to read."

"Nothing I tried kept your dad and Sammy out of here." Caleb entered the room, which hadn't changed a great deal since it once belonged to him. The walls had been painted a deep ocean blue and were decorated with typical posters for Ben's age. One was of the Indiana Hoosier's basketball team, and a vintage AC/DC that had Deuce written all over it. He was surprised Amelia's painting remained. One of Caleb's model bridges still had a place on top of the bookshelf in the corner, a sentry of tiny dragon statues with one lonely troll guarding it. "I even tried locking it for a while, but Dean could break into Fort Knox by the time he was JT's age."

Ben stood, raking some clothes off his mattress onto his floor where he kicked them under the bed. "I'm sure you had your hands full."

"You know how it is." Caleb took a seat, again amazed at genetics. To not have lived with his father very long, Ben not only had Dean's mannerisms, but his slob like habitation instincts. "Can't live with them, not exactly sure what you did before they came along."

Ben reclaimed his seat at his desk. "It was definitely quieter in Indiana. Even with the kids in the neighborhood, I had a lot of alone time."

Caleb picked up a framed picture of Dean and the three boys from Ben's nightstand. It had been taken at the beach the previous summer. Looking at it one would never guess at the history behind the happy family. "Sometimes a guy needs some space of his own."

Ben shrugged, pulling at the relic Foo Fighters tee he was wearing. "If things get too crazy I head to the barn and take Icarus out for a ride."

Caleb gave Ben credit. The kid came into an instant family, one with a two-year-old baby brother, a father he'd met only once and his father's girlfriend who was at the time pregnant with baby number two. "I used to escape out there too, but I headed down to The Pit with my boom box instead of going near the horses."

Ben quirked a brow. "Boom box?" His voice took on the teasing quality he shared with Dean. "Did you practice your break dancing why you were down there? I would have paid to see that."

Caleb snorted. "You should really aspire to get past that crippling sense of humor you inherited from your old man."

"I'm not sure that's genetic." Ben batted his eyes innocently. "Mac says Dad got that from you."

"Yeah, well, that was a vicious accusation started by your grandfather John because he didn't want anyone to know he'd spawned such a smartass like Deuce. If the truth be known, I think your grandmother Mary passed it down."

"I wish I'd been able to meet them. I feel like I've missed out on so much."

Caleb smiled. "Johnny would have been crazy about you."

"I never had grandparents. You know it was always just my mom and me."

"It was the same with my grandmother after my parents died." Caleb glanced up at the painting that used to hang in his grandmother's room. "When she passed I thought I was alone for the long haul, but turned out I ended up with more family than I knew what to do with."

"Life's strange." Ben smiled. "I asked my mom for a baby brother once and when she bought me a hamster I figured I was a sure bet for an only child."

"And after living with JT and James you understand the wisdom in your mother's choice."

"Family can be complicated." Ben picked up a crayon drawn picture Caleb guessed was JT's handiwork and flashed it in The Knight's direction. It was a crude rendition of a family, complete with M&M shaped people, house, dogs, stick horses and a smiling sun. The pride in Ben's eyes was unmistakable. "But they are definitely worth it."

"They are." Caleb raised a brow. "That doesn't explain why you're hiding out up here, ditching your little brother's monumental fifth birthday party,"

"I'm not ditching." Ben gestured to the computer. "I just had some things for school I needed to get done. It's taking a little more time than I thought."

"I thought school was out for the summer?" Caleb said.

"It is, but Uncle Sam said it's never too early to start on the college application thing, get a jump on the other seniors."

Caleb snorted. "I think Sammy started his freshman year."

"He told me about Stanford." Ben pointed to a stack of catalogs. "He brought me some information. They have a great medical program."

"Anything else leaping out at you?" Caleb wasn't sure Dean could handle losing another person to the academic juggernaut of the West. California was a long way from Kentucky.

Ben picked up a colorful brochure. "Baylor, where Elijah teaches, is definitely in my top five."

Caleb nodded. Texas was closer, both Ethan and Eli Matthews lived there with their families. It would make for a smoother transition and Dean could rest easy if the kid was being watched over by their friends.

"The research they're doing is cutting edge, but Juliet went to the University of Colorado. She still has contacts there. Then there's Cornell, and of course Johns Hopkins."

Caleb thought New York sounded even better than Texas. Sam had finished his degree up at NYU, staying at Caleb's place in Greenwich and making the commute back to the farm on long weekends and holidays. "Dad went to Cornell and Johns Hopkins."

Ben's eyes lit up. "I know. He's told me all about it."

"I'm sure he did. He's been waiting for a doctor in the family ever since I crushed his hopes by becoming an architect." Caleb ran his thumb over his silver ring out of habit. "You know Mac used to think your dad would have made a great doctor."

"Dad said he never really considered it, but I want to be a doctor more than anything. After my mom…I just…"

Ben hesitated and Caleb felt the stab of emotion from the teen. He cleared his throat. "You just want to spare anyone else that kind of pain." Caleb might not have had the aptitude for medicine, but he understood all about losing a mother. Ben shared that common denominator with him and Dean. Caleb wasn't sure which was worse, losing a loved one in one sheer moment of terror or watching them fade away, slipping slowly from your life without a hell's chance of stopping them from being taken. "You want to save people."

Ben looked at the computer screen. "Like what you, Dad and Uncle Sam do with The Brotherhood."

"You don't have to be a hunter to make the world a better place, Kiddo."

"That's what Dad says."

"Is that what's bothering you? You think you have to choose one or the other?"

Ben sat up straighter, a stubborn set to his jaw. "Who says something's bothering me?"

"Kid, I've spent the better part of my life studying Winchesters _and _I'm a psychic."

Ben sighed. "Really, it's not the hunter thing. I mean Dad has made it clear I can do both or not be involved in hunting at all." He gestured to Caleb's injured arm, battered face. "It's not like the cause doesn't need medical professionals."

Caleb redirected the jab. "Then what's eating at you?"

Ben gestured to the screen. "Like I said, I was all set to work on applications, psyched you know, and now I can't even make it past the first section."

Caleb frowned, leaning forward to glance at the screen. Things might have changed in the years since he'd gone to school. "Tough essays?"

"I'm talking about the first line."

Caleb squinted, leaning back so the words became clearer. He refused to take his father's advice and admit his eyes weren't exactly what they used to be. "I hate to break this to you, Ace, but if you can't get past the 'Name' part then I think med school may be out of the question."

Ben groaned, letting his head bang on the desk. "It's stupid, I know."

"Why don't you tell me what's holding you up?"

"Dad." Ben turned so he could look at Caleb, but left his head remaining on his folded arms. "Dad's holding me up."

"Dude, Deuce may be freaking out a little about you flying the coop, but he wants you to go to school."

Ben lifted his head. "Dad's freaking out about me leaving home?"

Caleb silently berated himself for not using his abilities and simply reading the kid. "That's not what you're talking about?"

The teen shook his head. "I don't know whether to use my mother's name or Winchester. Dad's never talked about it, not even when I got my driver's license."

"Did you ask him about it?"

"No. I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do back then." Ben sighed. "Dad and Juliet were so good to me, letting me come to live here without any kind of drama. They made me feel like this was my home."

"This is your home," Caleb said. "It always will be."

"I get that now, but back then I wasn't sure what was going to happen. I didn't want to make any waves or to you know…"

Caleb did know. "Mess it up?"

"Yeah." Ben fiddled with the leather bracelet on his wrist. "I didn't want to make Dad feel guilty or push him into doing something he really didn't want to do."

Caleb knew for a fact how his best friend would have responded to his oldest son's concerns, but Caleb also remembered the first year he came to live with Mac. "When Mac adopted me, he never once asked me to take his name. When I went in to talk to the judge and she asked me about what I wanted on the papers, I told her to leave it Reaves because I didn't think Mac was ready to tell the world I was his. Hell, at that time I don't think I thought I deserved to be an Ames."

"Mac never brought it up?"

Caleb smiled. "I don't think he wanted to make any waves or push me into doing something I really didn't want to do."

Ben rolled his eyes. "That your completely subtle way of telling me I need to talk to Dad?"

Caleb reached out and slapped the teen's leg. "I haven't spent most of my life studying Winchesters for nothing."

"But do you think Dad would want me to change my name to Winchester?"

"I don't think your Dad needs for you to have his last name to prove you're his son."

Ben wasn't going to give up. "Do you think Mac would have been happy if you took his name?"

"Okay, Kid." Caleb leaned forward. "Just between you and me, thirty years later when I finally made it legal and changed my name to Ames, Mac cried like a little girl."

Ben frowned. "But you still go by Reaves."

"I told Mac what I did. He's the only one that really mattered in the first place."

"You didn't even tell Dad?"

"Nope." Caleb smiled. "Only Mac. And now you."

Ben gave him Dean's trademark shit-eating grin. "Cool."

Caleb gestured to the computer. "So, what are you going to do?"

Ben reached up and turned the screen off. "I think I'm going to talk to dad after JT's party."

"Smart kid." Caleb stood, hesitating by the door. "But that stuff with your dad freaking out about you leaving… just remember you didn't hear that from me."

"Got it." Ben knelt down beside his bed and pulled a wrapped present from underneath.

Caleb grinned. "Johnny's going to love the camera."

Ben snorted. "Dad's right about you having the occasional good idea."

"Are you kidding?" Caleb tossed his good arm over Ben's shoulders and guided him towards the stairs . "I'm a genius when it comes to presents. For instance Father's Day is coming up and I know how you could score some major points with your old man."

RCJ

A/N: James's story is coming up next.


	4. No Matter What

No Matter What

By: Ridley

Beta: Tidia

_Family believes in the possibility of our greatness within,_

_Inspite of all outward evidence to the contrary. _

The first clue I had that I was different was the dog. I mean it's not unusual for strange dogs to show up at our farm. People know my mom's a vet and drop their unwanted animals on the road by our house. It's how I ended up with Porthos.

He was left tied to our mailbox with twine, just a puppy missing a front leg and one ear. Mom said he was born that way and that some people are not accepting of uniqueness. It made them uncomfortable. That was her nice way of saying people don't like freaks of nature and go out of their way to avoid them. I'm thirteen, but I'm old enough to know there have been lots of times in history when discomfort with a certain group has turned really ugly really quickly. Just look at the American Indians, the Jews and the X-men.

It's why I didn't tell Dad when the goofy Golden Retriever showed up in my room one night. Porthos didn't seem to notice the dog was slobbering on his favorite baseball, nor did he mind the fact the beast had claimed his spot at the end of my bed.

My hand moved right through the Retriever when I had tried to pet him. I remembered the picture of Pastor Jim from Dad's study. Sure my family tended to embrace the unusual more than most, but Atticus Finch had been dead since way before I was born.

After a while I got used to it. I didn't freak when I ran into Scout and Boo Radley at the pond, or when Harper Lee hung out under our kitchen table begging for scraps he couldn't eat. I mean I knew ghost dogs should not have been tagging along with me on a daily basis. It was weird, but nowhere in the same vicinity as what had happened at school.

Nothing prepared me for Carrie Beth Fillers. She was the reason I stood at the door of The Hunters' Tomb waiting for my grandfather's attention.

Mac had his reading glasses on, old journals spread around him. He was lost in his research, but it didn't take long before he sensed my presence, glancing up with a smile that told me to come in. "James, don't tell me I've worked through dinner again."

Mac was staying a few days with JT and me at the farm while Mom was in Colorado at a veterinary conference and Dad was hunting with Uncle Caleb. "No, it's still early. You have time to jump in before JT tries to play chef again." My older brother had tried to cook dinner last night. I didn't like spaghetti on a good day. Burnt spaghetti sucked.

"Good." He slid his glasses off. "Jonathan was blessed with many talents, but is severely lacking in the culinary skills as was his namesake. Your grandfather John couldn't work a toaster. Perhaps we'll order pizza tonight."

"Cool." I'm pretty sure I could live on pizza.

"Esme frowns on takeout. It will be a treat for me."

"She's trying to take care of you."

"She does a good job of that, but I must say I like having a chance to do the same for you boys."

"We're glad you're here, too." It was true. Bobby was Dad's backup plan and as much as I love my other pseudo grandfather, Mac is by far the easier to talk into things. He gets distracted by his work, and I'd already scored staying up way past lights out the last two nights.

"I was afraid you boys would be disappointed you couldn't stay with your Uncle Sam."

Uncle Sam lives in Louisville because of his work at the university, which isn't far from the farm, but way out of the way for him to drive me and JT to school in New Haven every day. I tried to convince Dad we could miss a week, but was shot down by JT who loves school. Did I mention both my older brothers are complete geeks? "Nah. Uncle Sam's always around. New York is a lot farther away."

"That it is."

"So…" Now that I was here I wasn't exactly certain how to begin. Starting with 'I see dead people' was completely lame, like the old movie Dad likes with the actor from the Die Hard classics. "I sort of had a problem at school today."

"What sort of problem?" Mac looked at me with a raised brow. He was always up for a conversation, especially if it involved school or books.

"A very unusual problem."

"You're in good hands then." He patted the seat beside him. "Thanks to your Uncle Caleb's inventiveness, I have handled my share of unusual problems. Nothing you say could shock me."

I have heard all about the things Uncle Caleb did while in school, tried a few of them in fact. My favorite was the goat in the classroom, but this wasn't exactly in the same league. "Well, you see there's this girl…"

"Ah," Mac leaned back, a grin spreading across his face. "And do you like this girl?"

"God, no," I said quickly, but then felt bad when I remembered the look on Carrie Beth's blue and bloated face when I told her she was a goner. "I mean not like that. She's my lab partner in life science." Besides, I already had a girlfriend in mind. Sydney Matthews might deny it, but in a few years she'd wise up about my brother and be begging to hook up with me.

"Okay." Mac ran a finger over his brow, which was a sure sign his massive doctor brain had kicked into overdrive.

"She doesn't have the best home life." Carrie's clothes were usually dirty and I'm not sure she had enough food to eat. "I saw bruises on her a few times." I told Mom about it and she called the school nurse.

"I see."

My grandfather's face paled. I knew I was probably bringing up some bad memories. He used to work for the FBI finding missing kids. He was retired now, but still got called in on special cases. It was one of the reasons I needed his help. "She didn't come to school yesterday, or today."

"And you're worried something has happened to her."

If the massive gash in her forehead was any indication, I was pretty certain of it. "I think she's dead."

"I know how quick that mind of yours works, but that's a pretty drastic conclusion to jump to. I mean there could be other reasons she…"

"I saw her today."

"But I thought you said she was not in school today?"

"I was the _only_ one who saw her." One of the things I love about Mac is he is super smart and talks to me as if I am on his level. I was hoping I didn't have to spell it out for him, and he didn't disappoint me.

"Are you saying you had a vision?"

"No. Not like the movie thing that Uncle Caleb has. Carrie Beth looked real, just like any other kid in the room. At first I thought it was some kind of joke, I mean she was all gross and stuff, but then she started freaking out because no one was listening to her."

Mac put his elbows on the table and leaned closer to me. "And you could hear her?"

"Yeah. I tried to ignore her, but she cried all day."

"Has this ever happened before?"

When I didn't answer right away, Mac laid his hand on my arm. "Jimmy?"

The nickname usually annoyed the crap out of me, probably because Ben and JT liked to torment me with it, but today I didn't mind it so much. "Only with the dogs."

"The dogs?"

"Atticus Finch mostly. He likes to sleep on my bed."

"I see." Mac ran a hand through his hair. "He always liked to sleep in your father and Uncle Sam's room."

He didn't seem too surprised by what I was telling him. "Does this mean I'm a necromancer?"

"What?"

That got his attention. "I read about them in some of the journals. They can call upon the dead, communicate with them."

"No. You are not a necromancer."

"A medium?"

Mac frowned. "Medium has a certain negative connotation to it."

"Then what kind of freak am I?"

"You are not a freak. Do you understand me?"

When I shrugged he gripped my arm. "Do you think I'm a freak because I can touch an object that belongs to someone and discern certain information?"

"No, Sir." In my mind Mac was a hero, just like my dad and my uncles.

"Or how about the fact that I can move things with only a thought?" To prove his point a journal levitated from the shelf across from us, landing on the table with a heavy thud.

I grinned. "That's more like a super power."

Mac sighed. "Then what about Caleb or Samuel? Are they freaks because they can read people's thoughts or have premonitions?"

I wanted to say no, but honestly, Uncle Caleb and Uncle Sam didn't exactly fall in the normal realm. "Am I a psychic, Grandpa Mac?"

My grandfather suddenly looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. For the first time, he seemed like an old man to me. "We think so."

"We?"

"Caleb could sense your latent abilities when you were just a little boy. We had no idea if they would ever manifest or in what manner."

"Did he tell Dad?" For some reason the idea of Dad knowing was scarier than what was happening to me. It was already bad enough I had to compete with medical student Ben, and Saint JT. I got to be the freaky psychic son. Great.

"The Triad believes strongly in not keeping secrets from one another."

Dad knew. "That sucks for those of us not in The Triad."

"It wasn't a malicious act, Son. There are those who never come into their potential and..."

"Lucky them."

Mac sighed, bringing his hand up to my shoulder. "It's not as bad as it seems, James."

"Tell that to someone who didn't have a dead girl follow him home from school."

"Carrie Beth is here?" Mac moved his hand from my arm, looking around us.

I shrugged. "Upstairs in my closet. I tried to tell her to go home, but she said she didn't know how, that she was lost. I was hoping maybe you could help find her…you know, her body."

"And you told her to wait in your closet?"

"That's where Ben used to hide the girls he snuck in the house."

Mac rubbed his eyes. "That is a discussion for another time. Let's see what we can do about the current situation."

I was glad JT was holed up in his makeshift dark room. My brother was one of the few holdouts that still used film because he liked the graininess of it. I could definitely do without him knowing about the crying dead girl. Not that I really cared what the jerk thought of me, but really who wants a freak for a little brother?

Porthos jumped from his spot on my bed as we entered the room, doing his usual bouncy dance around our feet, snorting and blowing for what he was worth. He pranced back and forth from the closet to where we stood as if he knew what was up.

"Interesting." Mac stroked his chin. "It's documented that dogs are usually sensitive to spirit activity."

I opened the closet door and Porthos's baseball rolled out. He latched onto it and returned to the bed to continue his quest to unravel the stitching. Eating, sleeping, and chewing were on my dog's to do list. "I think Porthos is an exception to the rule."

Mac patted my shoulder. "Perhaps that's for the best considering the amount of trouble he finds on this plane." He glanced over my shoulder to peer into the closet. "Is she still here?"

"Yeah." Carrie Beth was sitting cross leg in the clutter of my soccer cleats and comic books with Atticus Finch by her side.

"_I like your dog." _

"He was actually more my Dad's dog." I looked up at Mac to explain. "Atticus is with her."

"_He's dead too, isn't he?" _

She seemed resigned to her fate, but tears pooled in her eyes. It was worse than when Mom cried at sappy movies. "Sorry."

"Ask her what the last thing she remembers."

"_Is that your grandfather? The one you said could help me? "_

Carrie stood up, running her fingers over the wrinkles in her dirty bloodstained t-shirt.

"Yeah. Mac finds missing things." I didn't really have the heart to tell her what he usually looked for.

"_Can he see me?" _

For someone who seemed to spend a whole lot of energy trying to be invisible when she was alive, Carrie Beth put a lot of importance on being seen now. "No."

_She sniffed. "Then why can you see me?" _

"I'm different." It hurt to say, a real pain like a dirty tackle in football. "I see dead people."

Mac guessed her line of questioning because he placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "It's called clairvoyance and clairaudience, meaning communication with the dead. It's a form of extrasensory perception. A very unique gift."

There was that word again. _Unique._ Go me.

"_He talks funny." _

"He knows his stuff."

"_I'm sorry." _

"Me too. I was really hoping for a cool power like flying or super strength."I looked at Carrie Beth hoping for at least a half-hearted smile.

Instead she looked sadder.

"_Then no one would have been there to help me." _

It felt weird for a dead girl to be offering her sympathy for me, trying to make me feel better. It made me feel worse for not trying harder to get to know her when she was alive. "Mac might be able to help you find your way home."

"_That would be good." She brought her hand up, twisting her fingers in her blond hair. "My mom must be really worried by now." _

A lump crawled up the back of my throat as I thought about my own family. Mom, Dad, and even my brothers would be wrecked if the worst happened to me. It suddenly made being a freak not such a big deal. "Yeah."

"What's the last thing you remember, Carrie Beth?" Mac asked. He had bent to one knee and was using what Dad liked to call his headshrinker voice. He was looking in the closet, but Carrie Beth had moved to my side now. "I know it might not be easy, but telling someone could be the key to getting you home."

I met her gaze and Carrie shook her head. "It's okay, you can trust him."

"_I can't tell." _

Tears were falling now, and she was trembling. "Yes, you can. No one's going to hurt you here."

"_He'll hurt my mom and my little sister." _

I turned to Mac. "She's afraid to tell."

"_I promised." _

I translated again. "She promised."

Mac stroked his eyebrow. "The last words of the dying can be a binding. It might be possible that she really can't tell you."

"Then how do we help her?"

"_I know." Carrie bounced on her toes. "I could show you. I didn't say I wouldn't show anyone." _

Before I could agree or relay to Mac what she said, Carrie Beth reached out and grabbed my hand. I expected her fingers to brush through me, like mine had with Atticus Finch, but instead they latched on with a strength I totally didn't expect. The words 'death grip' would forever have a whole new meaning for me. I wanted to laugh at my own joke but a pain like touching a hot pan stopped me, taking my breath. Carrie Beth's skin was super cold, like dry ice. The burn of her fingers spread from my wrist, rushing over my body like a killer wave at the beach until every inch of my body was on fire. I thought about Rogue from X-men and how she could steal life force with her touch. That's what it felt like. Carrie Beth was killing me.

RcJ*SnsnsnsN*RcJ

"James? Can you hear me?"

The words were muffled, like someone was talking and I was under water.

"What's wrong with him, Mac?" JT's voice was clearer. "Why won't he wake up?"

I blinked, forcing my eyes open because my brother sounded scared. Mac's worried face came into view. He was leaning over me, and it took a second to realize where I was. JT was standing behind him, peering over my grandfather's shoulder, staring as if I had suddenly grown another head, which from the way mine felt, having it split in two was a definite possibility.

"Dad?"Everything was tingling and I really wanted my father to suddenly appear to make it all go away.

Porthos jumped on the bed, his cold nose nudged my arm. Mac rested a hand on my forehead and a fear I couldn't explain had me jumping, trying to pull away. "Easy, Son."

Hot tears slid down my face, and my chest burned. The sob was embarrassing, but I couldn't stop it. I so didn't do the crying thing, not since I was a kid. JT practically climbing onto the bed with me didn't help.

"Jimmy? Are you okay?"

"Jonathan, get your brother some water, please."

I waited for JT to disappear into our bathroom before completely losing it. It was too much to ask, but I held out hope Mac and I could keep this whole freaky ghost talking between us. "He…he hurt her, Grandpa." Mac's face blurred as more tears came despite how hard I tried to blink them away. "He killed her."

Mac reached out, lifted me up, and pulled me into his chest. It was a hard, crushing hug and I'm not sure whose heart was beating faster as he held onto me. I didn't pull away, although at any other time it would have been totally embarrassing to be acting like a girl. "It's okay, Son. It's okay."

The thing was it wasn't okay. I wasn't sure anything would ever be okay again. "It was her step dad. I couldn't do anything. I just…watched." It was worse than the movies Max, JT and I sometimes sneaked into after buying PG tickets at the theaters.

"I was afraid of that." Mac eased away from me. His fingers slid to my throat, pressing lightly against my neck. "I've came across research on similar situations. The dead can relate memories telepathically if they have the right conduit."

"Conduit?" I didn't want to be a crappy conduit. I wanted normal.

"What's wrong with him?" JT came out of our bathroom. He sat the water on my nightstand. Standing there with his hands on his hips, a scowl on his face, he looked a lot like our dad. Ben did too. Everyone said I looked like Uncle Sam and my grandfather John. I guess me and Uncle Sam had a lot of things in common.

Mackland gave him a quick glance but then turned back to me. "Just calm down, take some slow breaths."

I tried to do what Mac said, but my racing heart wasn't cooperating and I was freezing. Mac took Miss Emma's quilt from the bottom of my bed and wrapped it around my shoulders.

"You were unconscious," Mac explained. "I needed your brother's help."

Mac was apologizing for letting JT in on my dirty little secret. At the moment I couldn't find the energy to be mad about it. "It's okay." I hated JT knowing what I was, but having him close made me feel better.

"Did the ghost hurt him?" JT looked around. He stepped in front of me. "Is it still here?"

"She's gone." Mac and JT looked at me. "I don't think she'll be back."

"Her unfinished business was taken care of." Mac nodded. "You know where she is?"

I closed my eyes, remembering what Carrie Beth had shown me. "In the woods by her house. She's buried under some leaves and brush beneath an old car hood."

I felt JT's hand on my back, rubbing circles like he used to when I'd gotten scared and snuck into his bed after a bad dream or during a thunderstorm.

"Why's he shaking?"

"He's had a shock to his system." Mac stood and I looked up at him. "But he's going to be just fine."

"Tell her mom she's okay and that she forgives her." It's the one thing Carrie Beth asked of me. "Tell her she's not hurting anymore and that she'll see her again someday. Okay?"

Mac knelt in front of me again, his hand warm against my cheek. "I promise I'll tell her." His attempt at reassurance didn't really help me. "And I promise you we'll make sure that the next time this happens you'll be ready. Your Uncle Caleb can help with this." He turned to JT who was still hovering. "Watch him and keep him warm. I'm going to get my bag and make a few calls."

"Yes, Sir."

Porthos had crawled into my lap, licking the saltwater from my face. I cleared my throat, feeling JT's eyes on me, but unable to look at him. "Mac told you about me?"

"Yeah. You were out of it for a while. He was worried."

"So you think I'm a little freak now?"

"Nothing new." He bumped my shoulder. "I've always thought you were a little freak."

I finally found the nerve to look at him. "Now you have proof."

He wasn't grinning like I expected, instead he looked hurt. One thing about my brother, he's not very good at hiding what he's feeling. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Did you miss the part where I'm a ghost whisperer?" I rolled my eyes. I might as well dress up in one of Mary's pink tutus and let him take pictures.

"Wasn't that an old television show?"

"Shut up."

"No. I'm being serious. We could download it from archive and watch it. Maybe it would help."

He was being serious. I wiped my eyes. "You just want to watch it because there was a hot girl on it."

"There was?"

This time he was smiling and I felt my mouth twitch. "She's probably like Mom's age now."

"Gross."

"Yeah."

"Seriously, Brat. You should know you can tell me anything." When I didn't reply quickly enough he pulled a total chick-flick move by putting his arm around me, and the surprising thing was I didn't mind. "Whatever happens, we'll work it out."

"Don't tell Ben okay?"

"I won't tell anyone."

I nodded, my throat trying to close up again. "I wish Dad were here."

"He'll be back soon. Then he'll fix this. Until then, I'm here and I won't let anything happen to you."

"But what if he freaks out?"

"Dad wouldn't do that. It'll all be alright. I promise."

"But I'm not normal, JT!" I pulled away and Porthos jumped to the floor. "I'm something supernatural, something our family might hunt."

"Don't say that!" He was pissed now, too. "So what if you have abilities, so does Dad's brother and his best friend. Dad loves them. He loves you. We're family. That makes anything alright."

I wanted to believe him; to believe in my heart what I knew was true. But the thing with me is, unlike my brother, I'm ruled by my head. Spock to his Captain Kirk. "So none of this bothers you? I can see and hear ghosts!"

"Dude, my best friend is a witch; my girlfriend can tell if I'm lying just by touching my hand. None of this is any big surprise to me."

I let the fact that Sydney was _not_ technically his girlfriend slide, along with the fact she didn't need to have a psychic gift to know when JT wasn't being truthful. "But everyone knows what a sucker you are."

He rolled his eyes. "You're still the same person you've always been, an annoying pain in the ass little brother. Nothing could change that." He nudged me with his elbow. "Besides, think of all the good things you can do with this gift when you get older. Most hunters would kill to be able to pick up the ghost line and figure out what was going on in the spirit world without having to work the long way around."

Hunters and killing were two of the things I was kind of worried about. See my earlier note about mutants and other outcasts. Still, I understood my brother's sentiment, despite his faulty logic, and appreciated the effort. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He reached out and ruffled my hair. "And next time there's a ghost around, you tell me. Got it?"

"Fine." I knocked his hand away. "FYI. You're sitting on Atticus Finch."

"What?"

The look on his face as he jumped up from the bed was priceless. Even Atticus, still lying by my closet, was grinning. I laughed, feeling much better. "Some freaking ghost hunter you're going to make, JT."

"Shut up." He growled, but couldn't quite stop the smile that spread across his face. "Brat."

"Sucker."

And just like that, I realized clairvoyant kid or not, things would be okay again because unlike Carrie Beth I had a family who loved me and would protect me no matter what life threw my way.

RCJ


	5. Timing

Timing

Beta: Tidia

RCJ

"Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending." -Carl Brad

Dean groaned as once again something tugged at his pants leg. It had started with a playful attack on his boots, laces pulled until they were untied, sharp needle teeth gnawed at his ankle. Sam had been right about getting Boo neutered. Dean should have listened to him before the beast spawned prodigy. "Damn it, Dill, cut it out," he growled, nicking his knuckle on the undercarriage of the Impala. "Shit."

Ms. Carver had not been pleased when her Border collie, Penelope, ended up in the family way. She had planned on a blueblood arrangement, not a blue collar worker's mutt sealing the deal. Dean was lucky to find homes for the other four puppies before the wicked witch tossed them into a sack to throw them into the river. Dill was the exception. "I knew I should have left you at the shelter."

He'd finally sequestered the annoying pup in one of the empty horse stalls, but she had escaped with the help of her wily sire who never bored of someone or something to wrestle with. Their playful barking had him turning up the music on his iPod. "Go bother Harper Lee and leave me the hell alone."

Dean was up to his elbows in oil. He should have moved Caleb's Lamborghini from the barn. He could have used The Pit to work on the Impala. Another sharp tug had him sliding from beneath his car. "Okay, that's it…"

The ball of fluff was not latched on his jeans as expected, but cradled in the arms of woman standing over Dean with an amused smile. Dean pulled the ear buds from his head; his knife and gun were within his reach. The farm was protected, but Dean had learned not to take chances. A pretty face could just as easily be hiding a demon, or any sort of supernatural being.

"I'm sorry. I thought you might have heard me come in." She gestured to the headphones. "The dogs were barking."

Boo wagged his tail. Dean got to his feet wondering how much of his one-sided conversation with the dogs she had heard. "Yeah, Boo runs a tight ship of security."

The woman laughed. "Yeah, I think the geriatric beagle on the porch is definitely the greatest threat."

Dean snorted, relaxing a little as Dill climbed up the stranger's shirt. Dogs could sense evil, if Dill licking the woman like a popsicle was any indication, she was no monster in disguise. "Harper doesn't hear so well these days, and he has lost most of his teeth." The beagle was edging up on thirteen, but still had the run of the farm.

"No one answered when I knocked, but I saw the barn doors were open."

"Sorry." Dean grabbed an oil cloth from the hood and wiped his hands. "I don't get a lot of company out here."

"I should have called first." She smiled. "But as cliché as it sounds, I found myself passing through the neighborhood and well you know..."

"Are you having car trouble?" It was his day off from the garage. The shop was just getting off the ground so any new business was a good thing, but Sal should have been able to handle it.

"No." The woman shook her head. "I'm Juliet O'Neill."

"Juliet?" The name didn't ring a bell.

"My mom was an English Literature professor so it could have been worse. If I'd been a boy it would have been Balthazar." She smiled at Dean. "And before you hurt yourself, we haven't met."

"Of course not." Dean grinned. "I would have definitely remembered you."

"Of course you would have." Juliet sounded doubtful as she extended her hand to Dean. "You're Dean Winchester."

"Guilty." Dean shook her hand, liking the roll of her eyes when he held on longer than necessary.

"My grandmother gave me your address."

"Grandmother?" Now Dean was confused.

"She said Uncle Jim thought highly of you and your brother, of all _his _boys. Grams took his opinion to heart."

Dean's interest in female company was quickly overshadowed by the mention of his predecessor. "You knew Pastor Jim?"

"Yes. I'm his great niece."

Dean frowned, trying to recall any extended family the pastor might have mentioned. "You're related to Miss Emma."

"My grandmother was her sister."

Dean studied Juliet. She was tall, brunette and maybe around Sammy's age. Her long hair was pulled into a loose ponytail. She had a light touch with makeup. Her brown eyes were nice and she had a great mouth. His gaze traveled to her chest and when she cleared her throat, Dean realized he'd been taking stock a little too long.

He looked up, pointing to her shirt that proclaimed her participation in The Colorado Call of The Wild Marathon. "Colorado." Dean had a faint memory of Jim being gone one Easter. "Pastor Jim used to visit Miss Emma's family in Denver."

Juliet nodded. "That would have been my grandmother, Hannah. She owned a small ranch there."

"Wow." Dean had a feeling Pastor Jim was having a good chuckle. "Small world."

"You're bleeding," she pointed the cut on his knuckle that was dripping blood.

"You're a runner," he replied, ignoring the small wound, and pressing the flirting as he gestured to her shirt.

"God, no." Juliet snorted. "Not unless a pack of wild dogs is chasing me."

"That happen a lot?"

"Not if I'm careful." She shifted Dill when the pup toyed with one of the loose tendrils of her hair "One of my professors sponsored the race. I just gave a speech on behalf of the wolves to kick things off." Her mouth twitched in amusement. Dean caught the briefest hint of a dimple.

"You're still bleeding by the way." Juliet pointed to the small first aid kit hanging just inside the doorway of the barn. "Do you mind?"

"I don't know." Dean gave her a crooked grin. "Do you have a license to practice, Juliet?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Juliet lifted the small white box with one hand and placed it on the hood of Caleb's car. She flipped the lid and grabbed an antiseptic wipe, Band-Aid and antibiotic cream from the contents, tossing them to Dean. "Just not on people."

"My loss." Dean tore into the wipe.

"What is this?" She sat the squirming puppy on the ground, tilting her head to study the car.

"A Lamborghini." Dean turned to where the drop cloth had slid away from Caleb's car revealing the sleek sports vehicle. He flashed the woman another grin. "You've found me out. I'm Batman."

Juliet moved around the car with Dill pouncing after the strings of her tennis shoes. "Funny but you don't strike me as the type."

"I don't look like a superhero?"

"No." She laughed, pressing her face the side window so she could look inside. "The kind of guy that drives a sports car. This is amazing."

"It belongs to my best friend." Dean skipped the antibiotic cream, winding the bandage around his finger to stop the bleeding.

Juliet raised a brow. "Really?"

"Yeah." Dean caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass, noting the grease smudged across his face. He tried to wipe it off, but only smeared it more. "Caleb is incredibly hideous and has a horrible personality so the status symbol is all he really has going for him."

Juliet moved away from the Lamborghini, careful not to step on Dill who was assaulting her ankles with ferocious growls. "Good thing he has a great friend like you."

"I have a soft spot for the downtrodden." Dean pointed to the Impala. "That one's mine. She's a classic beauty."

Juliet's attention was drawn from the Impala by a loud whinny. "Now _this_ is my kind of classic beauty." She moved toward the end of the barn where Sammy's horse was stalled. "He's amazing."

"That's Fideist." Dean joined her at the stall; the gelding stretching his neck forward for a piece of apple Dean was guilty of indulging him with. He wasn't sure who missed Sam more, him or the quarter horse.

"Fideist?" Juliet reached out and stroked the big bay's head.

"From the Latin word fides," Dean explained, giving the gelding a pat. "It means faith before reason." They had all needed their share of faith after the war, and Sam had found some healing with Fideist.

Juliet looked at him with a hint of surprise. "Someone's quite the scholar."

"My brother Sam is The Scholar." Dean rubbed the horse's muzzle. "I'm The Guardian."

"The Guardian of what?"

Dean gave her his most serious look, doing his best raspy 'Batman' voice. "The Guardian of an ultra secret organization of men sworn to protect the innocent against all forms of evil." The line was greater because it was true.

"Huh." Juliet shook her head. "Grams said you were a mechanic."

Dean grinned. "Doesn't your grandmother know all good heroes have an alter ego?"

"My grandmother is my hero and she made sure I knew that all men have monstrous egos." Juliet smiled to soften the jab. "Does your brother live here, too?"

"No. Sam's a law student at NYU." Dean blamed lack of female company as of late for his divulgence. Taking over as The Guardian, picking up Sam's slack on hunts, and opening the shop in New Haven had taken up most of his time. "He lives with Caleb in New York."

"Your hideously deformed best friend?"

"Yes." Dean recalled his earlier description of Damien and nodded. "He and Sammy have a lot in common."

Juliet tilted her head. Dean caught a whiff of her shampoo, flowers and something fruity. "They're a couple?"

Dean struggled to regain his focus. "Come again?"

"Your brother and your friend? They're together?"

Technically, Sam and Caleb probably were in close proximity, and Dean wanted to eliminate the possible competition. Whoever said all was fair in love in war was a wise man. "Yes. They have quite the relationship."

"That's very understanding of you."

"I'm an understanding kind of guy. So much so that I haven't asked you what brings you from Colorado to Kentucky." Dean noticed Juliet made a wide arc around him as she moved back towards the door. "Is this where you tell me you want the silver?"

Once outside she knelt to let Dill scramble into her lap, Boo nudging for his share of attention. "I just finished up my residency and I'm here working on the reintroduction of gray wolves into the Appalachian Mountains. I'd heard so many stories about Emma and Jim that I couldn't resist being so close to their farm and not stopping by." Juliet looked up at him. "Grams said the farm was still in his family."

"Jim was most definitely family to me and Sam."

"I only met him once when I was about ten. He brought me a Nancy Drew book and a kitten."

Dean snorted. "That sounds like Jim."

"It was more of a trade, a bribe even. He came for one of my grandmother's prize Lab puppies and I was not happy about letting any of them go." She stood, rubbing her hands over her jeans.

"Scout." Dean shook his head at the memory. Pastor Jim had given the pup to Sam for his seventh birthday. "She was a great dog."

"After that summer he sent me gifts at Christmas, cards on my birthday and for my high school graduation he sent me a picture of Emma. He wrote she would have been proud of me and that I had her smile."

"Miss Emma must have had a great smile."

Juliet looked embarrassed, glancing towards the farm to avoid Dean's gaze. "I really didn't plan on coming, but I had some time off before starting the new project. My mother's moved to Italy to fulfill her dream of renovating a villa and with Gram gone…"

"Your grandmother passed away?"

"No." Juliet shook her head. "She sold her place and retired to Las Vegas."

"Sounds like a woman after my own heart."

"Anyway." Juliet took a step back, crossing her arms in front of her. "That's the story of how I ended up interrupting your work, but I'll be on my way now so you can get back to your busy day."

Dean took a step forward. "Do you like iced tea?"

"Tea?"

"Yeah. If you're going to be staying in the south for a while you might as well be indoctrinated the right way with Pastor Jim's secret recipe."

"And that would be? Moonshine?"

"No." Dean laughed, thinking how the last of the pastor's home brew was hidden in The Pit beneath Caleb's car. "An extra half cup of sugar and lots of lemon."

"Sounds sweet, but I still have a ways to drive."

"All the more reason to rest up." Dean gestured to the door. "Besides, you didn't come all this way just to see the barn. Miss Emma and Jim left a lot of themselves in the old place."

Dean washed his hands, got the glasses and tea as Juliet roamed around the kitchen. She stopped in front of Miss Emma's china cabinet. "This looks just like the pattern my grandmother has."

"Miss Emma's good china only came out on rare occasions." Dean placed the drinks on the table. "Jim guarded it and her rose bushes with unmatched tenacity. He might have let us boys get away with a lot, but we knew our limits."

Juliet moved to the table. "He never did remarry."

Dean filled their glasses. "Much to his parish's dismay. No matter how many casseroles the widows from the church tried to woo him with, Pastor Jim remained faithful to Miss Emma's memory."

"That must have been very lonely."

Dean thought back over his years with Jim, all the people who called the farm home. The pastor had never struck him as lonely. "He stayed busy with his work, and he adopted a lot of strays." Dean handed her a glass.

Juliet took the drink, quickly pulling her hand away when their fingers touched.

Dean cleared his throat, starting towards the living room "Like I was saying before, I don't think he changed much of the house after she died. You're welcome to take the grand tour. There's still some of her clothes and jewelry upstairs."

Juliet ran her finger along a porcelain figurine of an angel sitting on one of the end tables. "I think the fact their love transcended even death is what intrigued me the most." She glanced at Dean. "So much of today's world is disposable, all about instant gratification, outward appearances and the best new thing."

"Jim didn't throw away anything," Dean said. "He sure as hell never gave up on people. Jim talked about Emma in a way that made you think you'd known her your whole life. It was almost as if she was out working in the garden, or maybe she'd just gone for a long walk. I remember once when Sammy was a little kid he asked Jim when Miss Emma was coming back." Dean looked down at his drink, licked his lips. "Jim just smiled and said she was already home."

Juliet made her way across the room, stopping in front of the fireplace to stare at the various photographs lining the oak shelf. "He was completely in love with her."

Dean joined her at the mantle. "Until the day he died."

"That's rare." Juliet glanced at him. "My grandmother said they were the exception to the rule, a fairytale come to life."

Dean took a drink of his tea. "I guess they had happily ever after for a little while. That makes them luckier than most."

"My parents divorced when I was two, so I'd say you're right." She picked up Jim and Emma's wedding picture. "My Dad's on wife number five, who is my age by the way, and my Mom has sworn off all men, the exceptions being those found pressed between the pages of a Jane Austen novel and Giorgio Armani."

"So the fair Juliet is a jaded romantic?" Dean smiled.

"I think marriage is a fallible institution."

"That's irony for you."

"My parents didn't provide the best example." Juliet returned the photo to its place. "What's your excuse? I don't see a Mrs. Winchester hanging around."

"I don't have an excuse. My folks were the real thing."

"So they're still together?"

Dean shrugged. "I like to think so."

"I'm sorry." Juliet's teasing smile faded. "I take for granted that I still have both my parents as embarrassing as I find them at times."

"Family is one thing I never take for granted." Dean pointed out another photograph. It was of him, Sam and Caleb taken at Joshua and Carolyn's wedding. "I'm thankful for what I still have left." Dean knew exactly how easy it would have been for him to walk away from the war a shell of a man left with mementos and ghosts for company.

Juliet picked up the picture studying it closer. "Is this your brother?"

"That's Sammy-the freakishly tall one." Dean put his finger over Caleb's face. "This other guy is Caleb."

"You're right." Juliet maintained a straight face as she returned the photograph to the shelf. "They do make quite the couple."

"Ugly right?" Dean said.

"Absolutely hideous," Juliet agreed with a twinkle in her brown eyes. "I'm beginning to understand why Jim's invitations always came with a disclaimer."

Dean frowned. "You were never curious enough to take him up on any of them?"

"You know how it is." Juliet met his gaze. "The timing was never quite right."

"I do know how it is." Dean understood all too well. "Timing is everything."

"Speaking of -" Juliet checked her watch. "I really should be going. My research fellows are expecting me at the camp by nightfall." She handed her glass to Dean. "It was really nice of you to show me around."

"We could do it again…I mean you haven't seen the rest of the place."

"Perhaps." Juliet hesitated. "Perhaps I could actually call before I came next time."

"Hell, we could make it a date," Dean said. "Unless the fair Juliet is also jaded against those?"

"As long as you don't ask me to call you Romeo, then I think we'll be okay."

"How about if I promise not to compare you to the sun or your eyes to the stars?"

"As if I haven't heard those lines before." She pinked up.

"I may not be original, but I make a mean steak and promise to add in dessert, too." Dean wondered if Whole Foods delivered or if he could convince Esme to visit and cook him a dinner without Sam and Caleb catching wind. The power couple would not be invited. "I could even dig up some of that moonshine you were asking about earlier."

Juliet moved towards the door. "I think we should stick to wine."

"Wine it is," Dean said. "I have a secret cellar, you know."

She laughed. "I wouldn't expect anything less from The Guardian of an ultra secret society of super heroes."

Dean grinned. "Juliet O'Neill, you have no idea what you're in for."

RCJ

A/N: I purposively saved my author's notes for last. This is a story I never thought I would write, but several readers requested that I fill in some gaps and I can't resist those plot bunnies. I started out considering it a necessary evil, but in the end I was not left with a twitching eye or feeling nauseas as I feared. One of the first people who read it actually stated _'Wow. I didn't want to gag when I was finished'. _In a side note, that was almost the title I used. I did run it by the most stalwart Dean girl I know (we're talking hardcore) and she did not find it offensive. If any of you felt faint or ill, I will promptly refund your money. ;-) Please keep in mind this summer series is for pure fluff, fun and a distraction during hiatus. Tidia and I are having fun playing. It will disappear into the sunset in September.


	6. Written in the Stars

Written in the Stars

By: Ridley

Beta: Tidia

A/N: The summer of fluff continues.

RCJ

"It's going to be okay, Sammy."

Sam looked at his brother, who was sitting beside him on the carpeted floor of Mary's bedroom. The words were so familiar, too sacred for a song, more tangible than any prayer. There was no need for blind faith when your source of comfort was as solid as Dean Winchester.

"It's almost midnight." Sam glanced at the moon clock on the sky blue nursery wall. Its luminescent face glowed happily down at him. He turned his gaze to the ceiling where a revolving light cast a scattering of stars.

Dean pointed to a small cluster over Mary's crib. "Look, it's your old favorite constellation, Draco."

Sam appreciated his brother's attempt to distract him, but couldn't muster the strength to pretend to be diverted by the childhood memory. "Shouldn't Caleb have been back by now?"

Dean shifted the shotgun he was holding, resting it against the wooden chest of drawers behind them, and keeping the weapon within easy reach. "He's doing one final sweep. You know how he is, more paranoid than Dad."

More like because of Dad, Sam thought, but then Sam had been the one to send The Knight to recheck the salt at the door and windows downstairs for the third time. Sam was his father's son. "What if it's not enough?"

Dean's shoulder brushed against his, offering Sam an anchor for his thoughts which were tumbling ahead into dark possibilities. "Nothing is going to happen to Mary. She's safe."

"She's six months old." Safe was an illusion, one Sam was more acutely aware of as a parent. He didn't want to draw parallels, but couldn't help to see the repeating pattern. Sam was a single parent. Understanding for the first time what kind of panic and sheer terror John Winchester endured. "You know what that means, Dean."

"What I know is that Mary is sound asleep in her crib, which is encircled with salt and protected with every charm known to The Brotherhood and Joshua's coven. Triad magic blankets the entire townhouse and we're here on the frontline. Nothing is going to get past us."

"We've thought of everything," Sam said. He knew it was true. Sam had planned for this night for months with Dean, Caleb and Joshua's help. He was determined to be prepared for whatever might come out of the night to ruin the life he'd sculpted out of the war's rubble. "But I won't feel better until this night is over."

"Nothing happened with the boys," Dean said. "Nothing is going to happen now."

"I hope you're right." Sam held his brother's gaze, not voicing what he was really thinking. Ben, JT and James shared DNA with Sam, but not his tainted blood. If one of their children was going to be marked by evil Sam feared it would be his direct lineage. Like Caleb, Sam believed the risk of procreating was too great. Lidia was under the impression she was unable to conceive. They intended for a long happy life together without children. Things had not gone as planned.

Dean's gaze was unwavering. "I am."

"What if I've cursed her to my fate?" Sam bit the edge of his thumb, letting his eyes travel the length of the room. The castle painted on the far wall gleamed in the artificial moonlight. Familiar dragons with grinning snouts stood sentry while a silver winged horse flew over head between two perfect cotton ball clouds. Sam almost expected to see himself staring out from the tower window instead of a tiny blonde princess with flowers in her hair beaming down on her faithful constituents. Maybe Lidia had been right all along and Sam was being selfish.

"Being your daughter has not doomed Mary to some terrible fate, Bro."

"Unless that terrible fate is inheriting his looks." Caleb's entrance spared Sam a reply. He watched The Knight's shadow fall across the intricate mural Caleb had painted. "Let's hope she takes after the Ice Queen in those regards."

"Don't call her that," Sam said. He and Lidia may have had a parting of the ways, but they had agreed to stay civil.

"I have other names for her." Caleb kept his voice low. He crossed to Mary's crib, careful of the salt lines as he came to the edge of her bed. "I try to hold my tongue in front of the runt."

Dean snickered and Sam cut his eyes to his brother. "Don't you start."

"What?" Dean feigned innocence.

"You know what," Sam said. Caleb had definitely been the more vocal of the two after Lidia's decision to return to Europe permanently, but Sam knew Dean's feelings about the situation ran along the same course of those of his best friend.

"I had my peace with the woman," Dean said. "I'm not saying another word about it."

Sam pointed to Caleb. "Maybe you could teach him how to mind _his_ own business."

"I keep him on a short leash." Dean folded his arms over his chest, shaking his head as if explaining one of Boo Radley's infractions to a perturbed neighbor. "But he refuses to wear the muzzle."

"She's doing what she thinks is best." Sam addressed Caleb's back. He had lost track of how many times he'd spoken that statement over the last three months. It still rang hollow.

"Best for her." Caleb picked up a stuffed animal from the bed, winding it. Soon the room was filled with the tinkling melody of 'Mary Had a Little Lamb. "Cold hearted bitch."

The words were said softly with a singsong voice, but the venom still carried in the small room. "I heard that," Sam said.

"Mary didn't." Caleb twirled the dream catcher mobile Missouri had made. "You're a big boy, you can handle the truth."

"Not everyone is cut out to be a mother." Sam couldn't blame Lidia. She had been honest with him from the get go. Kids hadn't been a part of her agenda. She was relieved when Sam told her that wouldn't be an issue with him. They had only been dating a few months when the topic came up. Sam had volunteered to take James and JT out to a movie, and Lidia wanted to come along. She was great with the boys, but made it very clear when she and Sam returned from dropping his nephews off at the farm that someone else's children were the kind she liked best. At the time, Sam couldn't have agreed more.

"And some animals eat their young." Caleb moved to where Dean and Sam were, stretching out on the carpet in front of them. "I guess Mary got lucky."

"She tried, Caleb." They both did. Lydia had been torn about having the baby. She didn't know if it was fair to bring a child into the world, when she was so conflicted about the role of being a mother. Sam was uncertain for other reasons, but none of his doubts were strong enough to take away all hope that they were being offered some kind of miracle.

"My ass." Caleb snorted. "Things got tough and she ran out on you and Mary."

"No, man," Sam disagreed. "That's not what happened." There had been no running. It was more like a very slow fading away. He watched for months as Lidia struggled to be what she thought Mary needed, what Sam needed. All the while the light left Lidia's eyes, as sure as if she were succumbing to some terrible illness. In the end Sam couldn't bare to be responsible for one more death, even a symbolic one. Lidia didn't run, Sam begged her to go.

Dean bumped his shoulder. "By all his brooding, you would think Damien was the one who got dumped."

"I didn't get dumped, jerk." Sam punched his brother in the arm. He might have known the breakup and inevitable divorce was for the best but it still stung when Lidia jumped at her chance for freedom. Sam convinced himself she had struggled with the idea, that she was greatly pained by the separation, but in the end that hadn't stopped her from leaving. She took another piece of Sam's heart with her.

"Hey…" Dean rubbed his arm. "I was taking up for you."

"Don't," Sam said, forcing a half grin. "You've done quite enough." Sam took solace in the fact he wasn't alone. Dean had done more than enough. He'd been with Sam every step of the way since the war. No one cheered louder than Dean when Sam graduated from law school. His brother had proudly stood up for him at his and Lidia's wedding, was at his side the first time the nurse placed Mary in Sam's trembling arms. Dean was also there for the long nights after Lidia left, the endless ones that bled into one another leaving Sam feeling helpless to soothe his inconsolable daughter and tempted to run away himself.

"I'm on his side, too, Deuce," Caleb said. "I'm just watching the runt's back, that's all."

Sam groaned. "Please don't call her that." He'd lived with the nickname far too long to see it passed down to his daughter. It was one dreadful inheritance he could spare her.

Caleb kicked his foot. "I was talking about _you_."

Sam snorted. "I appreciate the concern, really. Just lay off, Lidia." Dean wasn't the only one in Sam's corner. Caleb was family and there was nothing The Knight took more seriously. He wasn't the most accepting of new people into their inner circle, but once there, he gave them his complete loyalty and expected the same in return. In Caleb's eyes Lidia had committed the ultimate sin of robbing Mary of the most precious gift-a mother.

"Give it up, Sammy," Dean said. "Damien's never going to forgive Lidia for denying him the title of Godfather."

"You could revoke Josh's title now that Medusa's gone." Caleb visibly brightened. "Have your lawyer write it in as a condition of the divorce."

"I am not changing Mary's Godparents." Sam and Lidia made the decision to choose Joshua and Carolyn together. The couples lived in the same city, had spent a great deal of time with one another, and the fact Carolyn was pregnant with Jocelyn at the same time had been a source of comfort to Lidia. "Besides, you're already JT's and James's Godfather. I think you'll have your hands full guiding them, trust me."

"Are you trying to say something about my boys, Sammy?" Dean asked.

"It sure as hell sounded like it to me," Caleb added. "Definitely the pot calling the kettle black."

"What does that mean?" Sam asked.

"It means that James could have sprung from your head, Zeus," Dean smacked his brother. "He's just like you were at his age."

"What?" Sam had grown used to the comparisons to his youngest nephew, as unjust as they were. "I wasn't the one always in trouble."

"That's because you were too busy ratting us out for a quick buck," Caleb said.

"I had your best interests at heart," Sam defended. "I didn't want to see you get hurt."

Caleb arched a brow. "Then you'll understand if Lidia goes missing."

"That's not funny," Sam said, hoping The Knight was joking. He wished no harm to his soon to be ex-wife. The fact they were no longer together didn't change what they had shared. Lidia was the first woman Sam had allowed completely in after Ruby. She was beautiful and smart in a way that reminded him of Jessica. She believed in Sam, her ambition and confidence helping him to further his talents as The Scholar. More importantly, she had given Sam the greatest gift he hadn't known he was missing. Lidia had given him Mary.

"It's a little funny," Dean said. "Luca Brasi could at least pay her a visit if she doesn't hold up her end of the custody deal."

"I think I can handle my wife without help from the 'Family'." Lidia had not objected to Sam's request for full custody. She hoped to remain on the peripheral of Mary's life, a presence, however faraway. Sam wanted his daughter to know her mother, sparing her another of his regrets.

"As long as you remember the motto," Caleb said. "One for all and all for one."

Sam doubted he could ever forget the coda they lived by. "As long as that doesn't entail you running my ex through with a sword, I'm good."

"I'll practice great restraint, for the runt's sake."

Sam wasn't sure if Caleb was referring to him or Mary, but the beeping of the alarm on his watch momentarily claimed all his attention. He stared down at the glowing numbers. "It's just past midnight."

"Mary's officially six months and one day old." Caleb gave a little whoop. "I think this calls for a Triad celebration."

"I put the beer in the fridge," Dean said. "Grab the leftover pizza, too."

"You bet." Caleb stood, ruffling Sam's hair as he passed by him. "It's over, Runt. Coast is clear."

Sam watched The Knight go, glancing to his brother. "It's over?"

"Funny how time flies when you're having fun."

"You two picking on me isn't my idea of fun." Sam thought back to the conversation, how he'd been drawn from his fear by the familiar bickering and banter. The same thing had happened at the hospital the night Mary had been born, only Caleb and Dean had been arguing about a recent hunt and how Sam hadn't pulled his weight. He briefly wondered if The Guardian and Knight planned the strategy in advance.

"Beats scared shitless any day."

"Yeah. I guess it does." Sam rolled his eyes, disgusted at how easily the older men manipulated him. He would have to warn James, but doubted JT and Ben would be able to thwart their younger brother so easily. "Go ahead and say it, Dean."

Dean grinned and Sam felt some of the weight of the world slide from his shoulders. "Told you so."

Sam shook his head, falling back onto the carpet with a heavy sigh. "We dodged the bullet but why do I still have this awful knot in my gut." He closed his eyes picturing Mary's sleeping face, her tiny bow shaped lips slightly parted in sweet breath, little hands wrapped around WooBee, who Dean had rescued and repaired. The image brought both peace and persecution.

Dean lay down beside him. "That's the parent curse."

Sam turned his head to look at his brother. "Does it get any easier?"

"No," Dean said. "Once they escape the crib, it only gets worse."

"Great." Sam didn't want to think past tonight. Tonight his little girl was completely safe, protected.

"But I'll let you in on a little secret, Sammy." Dean propped his hands behind his head, staring up at the stars above them. "It's all worth it, man."

Sam looked up at the heavenly constellations, thankful yet again for his brother's steadfast presence by his side. "Look." He pointed to the spot on the ceiling directly above them. "There's your favorite."

Dean nodded. "The Hunter's still looking out for us."

Sam had a feeling Orion wasn't the only one keeping watch from above. He moved his arm, so that his shoulder rested lightly against his brother. "Thanks, Dean."

"You're welcome, Sammy." Dean turned then, giving Sam a quick grin. "But if you think six months is bad, wait until she turns sixteen."

Sam looked at his brother a moment then began to laugh. Dean joined him and the sound was far more sacred than any song, more tangible than a prayer.

RCJ


	7. Normal is Overrated

Normal is Overrated

By: Ridley

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Another requested life event, a little more fluff.

RcJ

"God, this sucks."

"Stop you're whining, Damien." Dean was worried that Caleb's complaint lacked the fire and strength it had earlier in the forest. He wondered if Sam was right about them heading straight for the clinic in New Haven. Stopping the toxin would be pointless if Caleb bled to death first. He looked to the front seat of the car where he briefly met his brother's gaze in the rearview mirror. "It's not too great from where I'm sitting either."

"My bad." Caleb snorted. "Triad empathy thing kicking in?"

"Not so much." Dean had experienced the link that bound him to Knight and Scholar during the war. It was meant to be a warning that one of their Triad was in dire straits. Dean didn't need his Guardian mojo now to know Caleb was hurting. "I think it's just overkill if we're attached at the hip."

"Wouldn't know." Caleb tried to maneuver away from Dean in the cramped backseat as Dean shifted the wadded up shirt he was holding against the hunter's side. A piss poor laugh barely eclipsed his hiss of pain. "The psychic thing feeds off close proximity. You're practically on my lap."

"The pain I'm feeling has to do with watching you bleed out on these fine seats." Dean knew how his friend's abilities worked. Damien didn't need to deal with Dean's anxiety on top of everything else. He made a concentrated effort to maintain his calm by playing it as close to normal as he could. "They're originals from the 1979 anniversary model. Silver leather is fucking rare."

Caleb groaned. "I thought since we weren't in the Impala I'd at least be spared your bitching, Deuce."

"No such luck. I put months of labor into this baby. She may be Sam's ride, but she's a part of me." Sam glanced to the rearview again and when Dean met his gaze their speed increased. The car had been a back to school gift. New York was a pedestrian city, but the subway didn't quite make it to Kentucky and Mac's place had an extra parking spot. Besides, Dean saw presenting his brother with a car of his own as a symbolic blessing this time around. He was glad he went with the bigger block engine.

"Well, I've invested years in you," Caleb said through clenched teeth. "I think I deserve a little more consideration than The Bandit."

Dean rolled his eyes at the antiquated, not to mention incorrect, reference to the star vehicle from Smokey and The Bandit. "Dude, this is a 1981 Turbo. Bandit drove a 1977 Trans-am. Don't you remember the T-top?"

"I remember Sally Fields was extremely hot."

"Right." The expected answer had Dean laughing for the first time since the fucked up hunt had begun. "Was that before or after she stripped out of the wedding dress? Because we all know how you feel about brides."

"I have no problem with brides," Caleb said, his voice drifting off. "As long as they're someone else's..."

"He needs to stay awake," Sam snapped.

The clipped order from the driver's seat had Dean glaring at the back of his brother's head. Sam could sound just like their father. "No shit, Einstein. It's not like I'm back here spinning a bedtime story."

"Goddamnit, Sam." Caleb jerked in Dean's arms, struggling to lift a hand to his temple. "Your lack of practice shows. Stay the fuck out of my head."

"Stay awake and I will," Sam said, his voice holding no remorse. "If you go to sleep there is no guarantee you'll wake up."

"Thanks for that," Dean said. Sam had backed off on his abilities, like a teetotaler with booze. Caleb didn't think it was the right way to go, but Dean was trying to be supportive and let his brother find his own way.

Sam continued looking at the road, maintaining his white knuckled grip on the wheel. "The auloniad's poison is sedative in nature, Dean. It's how they finish off their victims."

Some days it was easier to be empathetic than others. "I know the nymph's MO, Sam." Dean had done the research. Mythology made wood nymphs sound like some of Heff's finest Bunnies had escaped the mansion and were out for a frolicking good time in the forest, but the truth was a lot uglier and much more sinister. The auloniad they had been tracking took her mating seriously, turning her chosen victim into compost to fertilize her precious trees.

"What is his problem?" Caleb's voice was still weak, but his glassy eyes were wide open and staring at Dean now. "He's been pissy for weeks."

"He is more broody than usual." Dean didn't bother to lower his reply. He waited for Sam to glance up in the mirror again; making sure his brother knew what he thought of his bitchy attitude. "I'm guessing having you for a roommate has finally pushed him over the edge."

"I'm an awesome roommate," Caleb protested. "I'm hardly ever there."

Dean had kept The Knight occupied training new recruits to rebuild their ranks and shouldering more than his fair share of clean up from the war. Sam was busy with school and Dean was still adjusting to being Commander in Chief, juggling the reigns of The Brotherhood, trying to find some semblance of balance. "Then maybe he just needs to get laid."

"That's your answer for everything," Sam said. "Both of you are dogs."

"We should have made him the bait." Caleb shifted his body against Dean's in the cramped backseat. "Whatever happened to the youngest hunter rule?"

"If I remember it right, your raw sexual energy is what happened," Sam said.

"You did brag about being the best choice of lures, Damien." Dean grinned. "So much for being the nymphomaniac in the group."

"Said the dude who once got the life sucked out of him by a siren." Caleb attempted to return the half-assed smile, his breath hitching. "Mac always said… a woman was going to be the death of us."

"Not tonight, Damien." They hadn't made it through the battles they'd seen in the last year to be taken out on a rookie hunt. Dean tightened his hold on his friend, glancing out the window to find familiar pastures and landmarks. "We're almost home."

Sam downshifted as they approached the farm, throwing gravel behind them. "Whose car is that?"

Dean looked up as his brother made the sharp turn into the drive, the back end of the Trans-am fishtailing as he slammed on the breaks. There was a light blue Honda hybrid parked near the Impala. "Shit."

"What's wrong?" Sam opened his door. He quickly got out, pushing the driver's seat forward so he could help with Caleb. "Why are there lights on in the house?"

"Tonight is so not my fucking night," Dean hissed. Juliet was supposed to be in Tennessee. He'd talked to her yesterday. She was set to head out to check some radio collars her team had lost tracking on. They had planned to hook-up on the weekend. She was way early.

"Tell me about it." Caleb's voice was slurring. He stumbled, nearly going to his knees before Sam shifted The Knight's arm over his shoulder. "I'm so not dressed for company."

"Why do we _have _company?" Sam growled. "Who the hell is here, Dean?"

"A friend of mine." Dean glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight. This was not how he intended for Juliet to meet Sam and Caleb. Considering Caleb was in need of medical assistance he was willing to try to see the upside. If Damien was worse off than he thought, Juliet's surprise visit could be a blessing in disguise.

"A friend?" Sam waited for Dean to get out, taking his share of Caleb's weight. "Do you mean a woman?"

"Should that really be such a shock to you?" Dean heard the screen door from the kitchen slam and then barking as Boo bounded from around the house to greet them.

"If this were a bar or a cheap motel, then no," Sam ground out. "I wouldn't be surprised to find triplets handcuffed to your fucking bed, but this is the farm, Dean. The farm! Jim would be so pissed."

"This is my home, Sam." Dean had a sudden vivid memory of his father coming back early from a hunt only to find a twelve-year-old Dean had invited a girl from school over to their ratty apartment. Sam's rant was tame compared to what Dad's explosive reaction had been. Home in the Winchester world was more like a fortress and bringing a stranger in was as treacherous as handing over the keys to the enemy. "And for your information Jim invited her."

"How the hell did she get in?" Sam ignored the revelation about Pastor Jim and started toward the front of the house. "Does she have a key?"

"Can we talk about this later?" Dean concentrated on keeping a hold on Caleb, who surprisingly hadn't added his two cents on the subject. Juliet didn't have her own key, but Dean had told her where he kept the spare one he left for old man Dingus who took care of the animals when Dean was away. He'd been seeing Juliet for over a month and she sometimes made it to the farm before Dean left his shop in town. She was Jim's niece. It had seemed harmless until now.

"She's expecting you to be alone, Deuce," Caleb said. "She has a bottle of wine and pie."

Dean looked at him, realizing exactly why his friend had been so quiet. Caleb searched out the unfamiliar presence psychically assessing the threat. "Stop wasting your strength, Damien. You're going to need it."

"Get rid of her," Sam said.

"What _is_ your problem?" Dean parroted Caleb's earlier question. He chalked his brother's odd behavior as of late up to the stress of getting back into school and the move to New York, but was beginning to wonder if something else was going on.

"My problem is that Caleb is bleeding to death and you've got a hot date!"

"I'm not bleeding to death," Caleb countered.

"I didn't know she was coming, goddamnit," Dean said. He didn't like the fact Juliet was here anymore than Sam, but he sure as hell wasn't going to be dressed down for it by his little brother.

"Obviously," Sam said. "Because you sure as hell wouldn't want anyone finding out your dirty little secret."

"Victim of a poisonous nymph here," Caleb said weakly. "Mysterious chick or not- I'd like to go in."

Dean swore as the front porch light came on to illuminate the yard in bright light. "Dean?" Juliet stepped through the door, Dill yapping at them from her arms.

Dean sighed "It's me, Juliet."

"Juliet?" Caleb coughed, trying to stand straighter. "For real?"

Dean lowered his voice. "Call me Romeo one time, Damien and nymph venom will be the least of your worries."

"Tell her to leave," Sam hissed. "We don't have time for this."

"No." Dean would have liked nothing better than to have shuffled Juliet off into the night, leaving her completely and blissfully unaware of his secret life just a little longer. But as Sam pointed out, Caleb was bleeding to death. "She's a doctor, Sam."

"Look at you going for the brainy girls, Deuce," Caleb said. "Mac will be beside himself."

"Don't get too excited, Damien." Dean nudged them to start moving again. "She's a vet, and I doubt we'll see her after tonight."

"Maybe your luck's changed," Caleb said.

"Don't count on it." Caleb should have known better. He had been around for Cassie. Dean's hands were sticky with blood and he left red finger prints on the white railing as they stepped on to the porch.

"Dean?" Juliet looked from the ominous mark to him. She was trying to assimilate the scene before her with the story Dean had given her about working late on a special project for a customer. It wasn't a complete lie.

"I wasn't expecting you," Dean said.

"But you sure are a sweet surprise," Caleb said. "I'm Caleb and the scowling guy is Sam."

Dean rolled his eyes at his friend's attempt at charm. Caleb was acting as if it the boys had just made it home from a few late night beers at the local sports bar. "Stay out of this, Damien."

Sam grunted. "We need to get him inside, Dean."

"What happened?" Juliet's gaze traveled the length of Caleb's body as she quickly stepped aside for them to pass. "He's bleeding."

"Hunting accident." The tried and true answer slipped easily from his lips. Dean and Sam maneuvered Caleb up the steps and inside, leaving Boo outside on the porch. "Sort of."

"You didn't tell me you were a hunter."

The distaste was obvious. Dean briefly wondered if shooting Bambi would be a quicker deal breaker with this woman than the sordid truth. They would soon find out. "It's not what you think."

"I think he needs a hospital," Juliet said.

"I've had worse, sweetheart," Caleb said with bravado.

Juliet put Dill in her crate, giving the pup a stay command before following them through the living room into the downstairs guest bedroom. "Dean, should I call an ambulance?"

"No. We've got it covered." Dean helped Sam ease Caleb onto the bed. The hospital wouldn't allow them to remain in control or administer the treatment Caleb would need. Mac and Esme were away on their much deserved and delayed honeymoon. He glanced over his shoulder to Juliet. "Do you have your medical bag?"

"Yes, but…"

"Could you go get it?" Dean watched her hands come to her hips, her lips press firmly together. He'd learned she had a stubborn streak over the weeks they had spent together, and that he could maneuver around it with just the right look. "Please."

She backed quickly out of the room, her gaze not leaving his until she passed through the doorway.

"She's _hot_, Deuce," Caleb said once Juliet was gone. He bobbed his eyebrows lasciviously at Dean and it might have made Dean feel better if Damien hadn't gasped when he reapplied pressure to the wound in his side. "No wonder you've been keeping her a secret."

"You're hot. You have a fever," Sam countered, laying his hand on The Knight's forehead, but looking at Dean. "I thought we were past keeping secrets, especially within The Triad."

So that was it, Dean thought. Sam was pissed he hadn't rang him up the instant Juliet showed up. "Sorry to violate the whole complete honesty streak you've got going on, Bro, but I really didn't think my dating life was a hot topic for Round Table discussion."

"Relationships have been a problem for us in the past," Sam said.

"I'm not dating someone buckets of crazy, Sam."

"Whoa. You're dating?" Caleb wrapped his fingers in the tail of Dean's over shirt, giving it a slight tug. "You know she's out of your league. Right?"

"Shut up." Dean forced a grin, knowing Caleb also needed the distraction he was offering Dean. "You're just jealous, Damien."

"Please. I taught you everything you know."

Sam sighed loudly, making his frustration with the chitchat known. "The poison is spreading faster than we thought. We can talk about you _lying_ to us later."

Caleb pulled away from Sam's touch with a frown. "Stop freaking out, Sammy. You're going to scare away Dean's new friend before she finds out how awesome we are."

"I'm not worried about Dean's new _friend_. I'm worried about you, dick head." He stood, giving Dean another pointed look. "I'm going to get what we need out of The Tomb."

Juliet nearly collided with Sam as she rushed back into the room, doctor's bag in hand. She made her way to the bedside, glancing briefly at Dean. "How are his vitals?"

"My heart started racing when you came in the room, Doc," Caleb said. He tried lifting himself up higher in bed. "Is that a bad sign?"

Dean placed a hand on Caleb's chest to keep him still. He looked at Juliet. "His pulse is strong and a little fast."

"Just the way I like my women." Caleb winked at Juliet.

Dean noticed her mouth twitched as she took a seat on the bed beside Caleb, but she was trying hard to maintain her professional front. He'd seen this side of her when she helped deliver a neighbor's foal a few weeks back, and again when she took him on a tour of the wolf relocation facilities in Tennessee. She was all business, taking her stethoscope from her bag and slipping it on before pressing the end against Caleb's chest. "How's the pain?"

"Will you hold my hand if I say I'm in agony?"

"Sorry." She pulled the stethoscope from her ears, letting it rest around her neck. "I have morphine to help with that."

"No painkillers." Dean shook his head. They couldn't risk Caleb going to sleep. "Damien's allergic."

"Okay." Juliet looked doubtful, but returned to questioning Caleb. "Any trouble with your breathing?"

"Not right now." Caleb, despite his condition, didn't miss a beat. "Could I get a rain check for mouth to mouth?"

"You're giving her a new appreciation for her nonverbal clientele, Dude." Dean placed his free hand over Caleb's face. "Ignore him from the neck up. He's slightly delirious from all the agony."

"I'm used to figuring things out without much input from my patients." Juliet smiled at Caleb. "I just need your body."

"Story of my life," Caleb managed to mumble around Dean's fingers.

Dean removed his hand. "You wish, fugly."

Juliet pressed her fingers against Damien's wrist. "I'm sure Sam appreciates you for your mind."

"Please." Caleb grinned. "The brainiac only thinks I'm good for one thing."

"That's a little more than I needed to know," Juliet said. She turned to look at Dean and he noticed her cheeks had pinked. "I do need to see the wound."

Dean lifted Sam's bunched over shirt from Caleb's side. The makeshift bandage revealed Caleb's torn tee and two deep gashes over his ribs, a third shallow cut sliding down his side, disappearing under the waistband of his jeans.

Juliet studied the slashed material for a moment. "Can we get rid of the shirt?"

"Who's jealous now?" Caleb looked up at Dean, then flashed another grin at Juliet. "All of the women he meets want to get me naked."

"Really?" Juliet pulled a pair of scissors from her bag using them to cut away the shredded tee. "How does Sam feel about that?"

Dean smiled, realizing he'd never gotten around to explaining the truth about Caleb and Sam to Juliet. "Lucky for Damien, Sammy doesn't hold his faults against him."

"Please." Caleb snorted. "Sammy's completely jealous of my way with women. I can't bring any dates home now that he lives with me."

Juliet tilted her head, inspecting the injury closer. "I imagine a sleepover would put stress on your relationship."

"Relationship?" Caleb frowned and Dean knew he was reading Juliet's thoughts. His face reddened. "Deuce, what the hell did you tell her?"

"So…" Dean cleared his throat, ignoring his best friend. "What do you think, Doc? Simple sutures handle it?"

"If we're lucky." Juliet leaned closer; a strand of dark hair escaped her ponytail to fall across her face. Dean resisted the urge to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. Caleb was smirking at him for even thinking about it. "I'll need to clean the wound before I can say for sure."

"Use this." Sam reentered the room, his arms full with the farm's medical kit, bottles from The Tomb and a silver flask which he extended to Dean.

"I have antiseptic." Juliet started for her bag. "I don't need alcohol."

"It's not alcohol." Sam reclaimed his place by Caleb on the other side of the bed. He looked at his brother. "Dean?"

Dean realized the gig was up, the illusion he had created was about to vanish. It was funny he hadn't realized how drawn in he was until Juliet' eyes finally met his. He wasn't ready to run her off. His father's voice rang clearly in his head. 'We do what we do and we shut up about it.'

"What is it?" She gave an impatient little huff to dislodge the strand of hair from where it had fallen across her eyes.

"Holy water," Dean said.

"Okay." A frown crossed her brow, the small scar above her left eyebrow momentarily disappearing in the crease. "The problem being that just because water's blessed doesn't mean it's sterile."

Dean rubbed his hand on his jeans. Juliet was thinking completely logically. Sam was still staring at him expectantly.

"We're a very religious lot," Caleb said. "Pastor Jim's influence."

Dean glared at his friend. Caleb had picked up the connection to Pastor Jim while snooping. He wondered what else Caleb had lifted to be used against Dean at a later date. "That's not why we use it."

"I didn't mean to be disrespectful," Juliet started. "But I don't want to risk any kind of contamination…"

"It's to purify and purge the body of evil." Dean knew they were beyond their typical subterfuge. He had forgotten how hard it was for an outsider, someone from the normal world, to put it all together. To see past the curtain, as Missouri was fond of putting it. He had openly laid the pieces out on the table for Cassie and she still refused to see the truth. It was easier for her to think Dean was a crazy asshole than to admit there were things she and science could never understand. "We use it anytime a wound is caused by a supernatural entity. It's not a cure, but it's necessary."

"Supernatural entity?" Juliet let out a nervous laugh. She looked at the wound again and then to Dean. "This looks like an animal attacked him. What exactly were you hunting?"

Dean realized she still wasn't following him. "Nymphs. An oak nymph, actually."

"Nmyphs?" She repeated the word slowly, her face showing confusion, but slowly morphing to frustration. "As in maidens with magical abilities to bewitch humans with their beauty?"

"Most history has been twisted and exaggerated to some degree," Sam said. "Nymphs were often associated with gods and goddesses and therefore with ethereal gifts, such as extreme beauty."

"The one that got me was ass ugly," Caleb said. "More like a fucked up goat than any Waterhouse or Draper painting."

Juliet looked at Caleb and then from Sam to Dean. "Is this some kind of elaborate joke?"

"This isn't a joke," Dean said. Like most people, Juliet couldn't see past her own knowledge, which left one alternative. He would have to show her. Dean uncapped the flask, his gaze going to Caleb's and getting a small nod from his best friend. He poured the holy water over the gashes. Damien cried out, arching off the bed as the water bubbled and hissed, smoke rising over the wound. Juliet started, hand going to her mouth before reaching out to grasp Dean's wrist, preventing him from pouring any more of the water.

"What are you doing?!"

"What I have to do to stop that," Dean said. He pointed to the wound where black spider-like tentacles magically appeared under Caleb's skin branching out like invisible ink from the wound.

"Oh God." Juliet let go of Dean. She looked at Caleb, all color draining from her face.

Damien gave a harsh laugh. "Tell me you're not squeamish, Doc."

"I don't understand." Juliet let her hand hover above Caleb's stomach. "What the hell is that?"

"It's poison," Dean said. He laid one hand on Caleb's arm, glancing at Sam before pouring more from the flask. The dark streaks receded, shrinking back towards the wound. "The holy water will slow down the spread giving you time to stitch him up and us to deliver the antidote."

Juliet gave Dean a baleful look. "_Nymph_ poison?"

"Auloniad, actually." Sam was in Scholar mode, his frustration taking a backseat to his favored role of teacher. "It's a subset of nymphs, more vicious than your water variety."

Juliet continued to stare at Dean. He licked his lips, lowered his voice. "I didn't want you to find out this way, but we need your help."

"Or we need for you to get out of our way," Sam said. His brother had little patience for those in 'normal land' these days. People unaware of the sacrifices made for them, the casualties that occurred. Sammy was like an embittered veteran from a war that civilians could not comprehend.

"What didn't you want me to find out, Dean?" Juliet's tone took on a higher pitch. "That nymphs are real?"

"They are real," Dean said, solemnly. Dean thought back over the last few weeks, dissecting the moments they had shared together. Surely, there must have been a time when he could have explained, made her understand. "Nymphs and a whole bunch of other shit you've only read about in books or saw on the big screen."

"Fairies and elves?" Juliet stared at Dean with a look he hadn't seen from her before, but recognized as good old disappointment.

"I'm sorry." Dean realized no moment merely appeared for life changing news to be delivered. Those pockets of time had to be carved out, willfully created. He hadn't made the effort in fear of the very reaction he was receiving now. All he had accomplished was to delay the inevitable. If he had explained earlier, she would only have left sooner.

"Woodland creatures as a lot are bad news," Caleb said. He had his breathing under control, but Dean didn't miss his fists still gripped the blankets beneath him. "Trolls and fucking gnomes are the worst."

Dean ran a hand through his hair. "You're not helping, Damien. Just take it easy."

"This conversation isn't helping," Sam spoke up. He tossed Dean their medical kit. "Stitch him up, Dean so I can inject the snake venom."

Dean bit back on a groan. Sam couldn't have merely called it a cure.

"Snake venom?" Juliet gawked at Sam. "Now you're kidding, right?"

"It's the only antidote for nymph poison." Dean had once seen Mac use it on Bobby. The results weren't pretty, but Bobby was still kicking and that was what mattered most.

"Why would you think that?" Juliet demanded. She glanced to where Sam was busy filling a syringe and then glowered at Dean. "Don't do this. Believing in fairytales is one thing, but dosing someone with poison…"

"I know none of this makes a lot of sense," Dean said. Not a lot of things behind the curtain made sense in the parameters of the known world. Asking Juliet to grasp the fact he was about to inject his best friend with snake venom to save his life was like asking her to accept that the world was flat, or that gravity was a figment of her imagination. He tried to take her hand, but she jerked away as if his touch burned her skin.

"Chemotherapy doesn't make a lot of sense to a lay person," Sam said. He met Juliet's gaze. "But doctors inject people with that poison all the time."

Dean ran a hand through his hair. Leave it to his brother to present more logic when trying to explain the illogical. "Sam…"

"Medicine is based on research and fact," Juliet snapped. "This…._this_ is heresy."

Sam tapped the syringe, depressing the plunger to remove any air bubbles. "Do you know of Eurydice?" he asked.

Caleb moaned and Dean knew it had nothing to do with his physical pain. Sam had become obsessed with Eurydice since they learned of the nymph. "Please just knock me out, Man."

"Eurydice?" Juliet stood. Dean didn't blame her for putting some distance between her and the three of them, inching closer to the door. She was afraid.

"Eurydice was the original oak nymph," Sam explained as if he were saying something that Juliet should have learned in grade school. "Daughter of the god Apollo, wife of Orpheus. She was killed while being chased by a satyr. She stepped on a serpent."

Dean let out a heavy breath when Juliet only looked more repulsed by Sam's enlightenment. Sam didn't seem to notice and went on with his diatribe as if dealing with a slowwitted child. "Nymphs were practically god-like then, immune to human weapons and treachery. Snakes were their one mortal enemy, so it makes perfect sense to use their venom now."

"Of course." Juliet laughed. "That explains everything. I feel much better about being a part to attempted murder."

"We know what we're doing," Sam said. "It's not some avant-garde drug. As a doctor you should appreciate the fact we're lucky to have the work and research of generations of hunters to rely on."

"Hunters?" Juliet brought a hand to her throat, gripping the silver charm Dean knew her grandmother had given her. "Supernatural hunters?"

"Look." Dean held up a hand to stop the volley between the two. He turned to Juliet. "I know you don't understand, that it all sounds crazy, but I don't have time to go into details. If you can't help, then you should just go." He stood, taking a step closer to her. She retreated until her back was against the wall looking like a frightened and cornered animal.

"Deuce." The nickname had him refocusing on Caleb. The Knight was shivering, his voice weaker. "I hate to slay the moment…but I'm not feeling so hot."

"We gotcha, man." Dean reclaimed his spot on the bed, picking up the suture kit. "We'll have you fixed up in no time."

A slight touch on Dean's shoulder stopped him. He turned to find Juliet at his side. Her posture was rigid, determined, but Dean caught the way her lower lip trembled before she caught it between her teeth.

"I don't know what's going on here. I don't think I want to know." She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. The professional mask was back in place. "I can't ignore a wounded man."

"No woman can resist me," Caleb said weakly.

Juliet looked at him. "I'll take care of the wound. Your friends can concentrate on the rest, but I have to tell you that I strongly suggest you reconsider their plan of treatment."

"Duly noted, Doc."

"Thank you." Dean started to smile, but Juliet gave a sharp shake of her head.

"When it's finished, I'll be leaving."

Dean nodded. It was the outcome he had expected. "That sounds more than fair."

Juliet's brown eyes pooled with tears, but she managed to keep any from escaping. "Nothing about this is very fair, Dean."

Dean swallowed the lump lodged in his throat. "Welcome to my world, Juliet."

RcJ

Juliet was washing her hands in the kitchen sink when Dean found her. Her back was to him, but he could tell by the slight shaking of her shoulders she was crying. She hadn't spoken to anyone but Caleb during the procedure, allowing her patient to continue to flirt and returning in kind to distract from the pain. When all fifty-six skillful stitches were in place, she gathered her things and quickly left. Dean didn't blame her one bit.

His father's voice screamed inside his head for him to just turn around and walk away, go back to his Triad and leave things with Juliet as they were. Another whisper urged Dean to reach out to offer his thanks again, an apology if nothing else. Pastor Jim had never steered him wrong.

"Juliet?"

She turned the water off but didn't turn around. "I was just cleaning up before I get on the road to Tennessee."

"It's late," Dean said. "You're welcome to take my room, or Pastor Jim's."

Dean watched her wet hands grip the counter, keeping her back to Dean. "Was he one of you?"

Dean sighed, understanding what she was asking. "Pastor Jim was the best of us."

She whirled to face him, angrier than he had seen her. Her face was flushed, eyes red and puffy. "And what exactly are you, Dean?"

"I told you what I was that first day you came here." Dean stepped forward. "I'm The Guardian of an ultra secret society sworn to protect the innocent from all evil in the world. We've been around in some form or another since the days of Camelot."

"You also told me you were Batman." Her voice shook. "Should I be on the lookout for the bat cave, too?"

"No bat caves at the farm." Dean shrugged. "We do have a Hunter's Tomb."

"You lied to me!"

Dean held her gaze. "Technically, I was completely honest with you from the very beginning." He had not only told her about The Brotherhood in a roundabout way that first day they met, but had bragged about it on their first and second date. It may have been in jest, but still…

"Good god, Dean." Juliet roughly wiped her eyes. "I thought it was a line. A really unique and bad pick-up line."

"Bad? I beg to differ." Dean tried for a smile. He took a step closer to bridge the distance between them. "It got you to sleep with me."

"This isn't funny." Juliet shook her head, more fresh tears falling. "You let me fall in love with you, you jerk."

Dean tilted his head, thinking he might have misheard. "You're in love with me?"

"That is _so _not the point." Juliet glowered at him, hugging her arms tightly across her chest. "Don't give me that look!"

"What?" Dean was still reeling from the L-bomb. "What look?"

"_That_ look." She pointed an accusing finger at his face. "The one where your eyes get all dreamy and you look like a lost little boy. My mother warned me about men like you."

"I'm sure she did." Dean had no doubt any mother worth her weight in salt would want her daughter to steer as clear as possible of him.

"Grams, too," Juliet seemed to be reprimanding herself now. She smoothed both hands over her dark hair. "God! How could I be so stupid? The smile and the incredible sex should have been my first clues. And you were single! I knew you were too good to be true."

"You thought the sex was incredible?" The withering look she gave him let him know humor was not helping. "I might have left some things out, but I never lied to you."

"I thought you were a mechanic from Kansas!"

"I am a mechanic from Kansas," Dean said.

"You know what I'm talking about," Juliet choked. "I thought you were normal."

"Normal?" Dean had been called a lot of things, but normal was never one of them. "You had to suspect something when you saw the scars?" Even though his body had been wiped clean, he still had acquired new marks.

"I thought you were into extreme sports!" Alerting Dean she had thought about it, but had come up with her own reasons. "The only thing I couldn't explain was the hand print."

"I was saving that conversation piece for when you got tired of the amazing sex." Dean wasn't about to explain Castiel, who was a whole other kind of 'not normal'.

"Stop." She shook her head. "Just stop."

He stood close enough now that he could see the gold flecks in her brown eyes. She loved him. Love always meant things were never as bad as they seemed. There was hope. He reached out and did what he had wanted to do earlier, tucking the loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "Juliet, don't you know normal is completely overrated?"

Juliet didn't move away, instead she tipped her head up to look at him, leaning ever so slightly into his touch. The anger was gone, leaving something worse. She looked hurt, wounded. "Overrated or not, Dean- I need normal."

He licked his lips, lowering his voice. She didn't sound completely convinced. "Normal is really nothing more than what a person gets used to."

"Not for me." She shook her head, stepping away from him as more tears filled her eyes. "I can't…I could never get used to this."

"Dean?"

Dean knew his and Juliet's conversation was over before Sam called to him from the entrance way of the kitchen. The interruption saved them both from saying things they might regret.

"Sammy?" His brother looked upset.

"I know this isn't a good time, but Caleb needs you." Sam gestured over his shoulder. "He's having a rough time."

"Yeah." Dean ran a hand over his mouth. "It's okay. We're finished here. Juliet was just leaving."

Sam nodded. "I can show her out."

"That's not necessary," Juliet started.

"It is." Dean briefly met her gaze. "Sam will make sure you get off safe and sound."

Juliet brushed a hand under her eyes, erasing the wetness from her face. "All right."

Dean slowed in front of Sam. "Take care of her."

His brother nodded. "I plan on it."

RcJ

They stood in awkward silence for a long moment, Sam studying Juliet. She wasn't exactly his brother's type, but then Cassie had been a surprise, too. Caleb told Sam what he gleaned from Juliet's thoughts, her connection to Pastor Jim and Miss Emma. In Sam's mind being a great niece by marriage didn't entitle her to their automatic complete trust, but at least it explained why Dean had let her into the farm. The look on his brother's face as he left the kitchen told the rest of the story. Sam found it hard to stay angry at Dean when he was hurting.

"You don't have to go." He cleared his throat, wishing he could tell her things weren't as bad as they seemed. The thing was she had only seen the tip of the iceberg. Sam stuck with the simple truth. "He doesn't want you to go."

Juliet stared at him and he broke his own rule to read her. She thought they were all crazy, freaks. She didn't know how she had let herself get into this. It was like a bad dream she couldn't wake up from. Sam used to have that same feeling a lot.

"I think it's best that I do." She moved to get her purse, medical kit and overnight bag from the table.

"Maybe you're right." Sam stepped forward and took the small duffel before Juliet could reach for it. "I'll get that for you."

"You don't have to." She froze in place as Sam loomed closer. His height was intimidating. The fact he hadn't shaved in a few days, smelled of sweat and was covered in Caleb's blood probably didn't help her feel more comfortable. "It's okay. Pastor Jim would never forgive me if I forgot my manners." He took the bag and opened the door for her. "After you."

"Thank you." She gathered her purse, folding her arms over her medical bag as they stepped outside.

Boo thumped his tail against the porch, but didn't bother to get up from the rug where he was resting.

"See ya, Boo," Juliet said softly.

Boo's tail tempo quickened and he whined. Sam gave the dog a frown realizing Dean wasn't the only one smitten. Traitor.

The late night autumn air was cool, the smell of leaves and newly mown hay floating on the slight breeze. Sam took a deep breath, glad to be outside, but not so happy with the company. He found it hard to be around regular people. School was proving more difficult this time around.

"I hope Caleb will be alright."

"He'll be fine." Sam glanced at her as they made their way to the drive, forcing a half grin he hoped was somewhat reassuring. Pastor Jim would expect him to try and be nice even if Juliet wasn't exactly giving them the benefit of the doubt. "He wasn't kidding when he said he's had worse."

She cut her eyes to him. "It must be hard to watch someone you love hurting."

"It's not something you ever get used to."

She was surprised when he echoed her private thoughts but shrugged it off. "I imagine not."

They reached her car and Sam waited as Juliet dug in her bag for the keys. The lighting wasn't the best. Sam caught the trace of tears on her face as she bent her head to search the bottom of her purse. She was biting her lip, trying to keep it together until she could make her escape. Sam found himself suddenly thinking of Jessica. Along with the memory came a pang of empathy.

"Try your jacket pocket." Caleb had taught him to pick up on little nuances people weren't even aware they held in their minds. Memories. It was a talent that could come in handy as a trial lawyer, but Sam didn't want to contaminate his new life.

She looked up; touching the pocket of the light windbreaker she wore. It was dark blue, a white wolf paw on the front with Mt. Peterson Wolf Preserve stitched below it. "I forgot I put them there."

"It's been an eventful night," Sam said.

"Definitely not what I was expecting." She used the keys to open her door, tossing her medical kit and purse inside.

"I know what you mean." The images came to Sam without much effort. Juliet had hoped to surprise Dean, excited at the prospect of spending time with him. She'd stopped and gotten cherry pie at Whole Foods. Sam knew it wasn't Dean's favorite, not even a close second but the gesture was sweet. He stepped around her to place the overnight bag in the back. He'd known his brother was acting strange, seemed different over the last two months. It hadn't taken long for Sam to realize Dean was keeping something from him, something important. Sam had been hurt, pissed. It made him feel their physical separation on a different level. He didn't expect a woman to be at the root of it all.

"You don't like me."

Sam blinked, realizing he'd been staring at her. She misinterpreted. "I don't know you." He stepped back, pulling free from her thoughts. He felt tired and drained. Caleb was right. He was out of practice. "I try not to judge people."

"You think I'm judging you unfairly?" Juliet reached up and rubbed her temple, wincing.

Sam had probably given her a headache. The least he could do was try and use the information he'd gotten. "I believe you think that maybe we're some kind of freakish cult. That Pastor Jim's church might have been a cover for something nefarious. You think you and your family didn't know him at all, and that Miss Emma was probably wronged in some way. You think maybe you should alert the police."

Juliet looked startled. "How did you…"

"Telepathy." Sam tapped his head. "I read what you were thinking."

"Psychic?" Realization lit her eyes. "That's how Caleb knew my favorite poem and the chocolates I like."

"You were impressed with his 'sensitivity'." Sam smirked. Caleb pulled random stuff out of thin air while Juliet stitched him up. He was doing it as much to distract Dean as he was to impress Juliet. For all Caleb's trash-talking, he'd never known the older hunter to ever seriously compete with Dean for a woman's attention. He was as loyal as the day was long. "You thought it was because he was gay."

Juliet's face reddened and Sam knew she felt foolish. "And Dean? Has he been reading my thoughts all this time?"

"Dean's not psychic. He's a normal guy compared to me and Caleb." His brother was The Guardian, and extraordinary, but Sam didn't think any of that would win him points with Juliet at the moment.

"Normal seems to be relative with you Winchesters." Juliet gripped her keys.

"I guess it is." Sam felt her turmoil as she looked toward the house. Every ounce of common sense she had was screaming at her to get in the car and get the hell out of there, but still she hesitated. It hit Sam like a hammer. She loved Dean.

The feelings he'd picked up from his brother on his last visit were so similar to the ones Sam felt when he first met Jess. He didn't recognize it on a conscious level, but had understood enough to be jealous, and more than a little threatened. Sam couldn't lose his brother, not after they had worked so hard to recover their relationship, to build an even stronger one.

"I should really go."

Sam wasn't sure if she had spoken the words out loud or if he'd heard her thoughts. She was looking at him, as if Sam should either agree or give her a damn good reason not to leave. Sam was tempted to gladly bid her adieu, but he had wrestled much bigger demons than petty insecurity. "Did Dean tell you about our mom?"

Juliet shook her head, her voice softening. "Only that she and your father were gone."

Sam swallowed, the familiar lump springing to his throat at the mention of his dad. "She was murdered by a high-level demon called Azazeal."

"I'm sorry." Maybe she was passed looking shocked because Juliet didn't flinch or even seem doubtful of his confession. She offered condolences as if Mary Winchester had died peacefully in her sleep.

"Dad never saw the world the same, and he didn't allow me and Dean to forget it. Everything was dangerous, evil lurked around every corner."

"I guess an oak nymph is pretty tame eye opener compared to a demon."

Sam's mouth twitched. He was beginning to understand his brother a little better. "After the shock wore off Dad became obsessed with not only protecting us, but tracking down and killing the bastard."

"Anyone in his position would want revenge," she said.

"Revenge is a slippery slope." Few people could conceptualize the thirst to destroy an enemy. Sam had learned the hard way, done things that if spoken out loud would definitely have Juliet running back to her safe illusion of normalcy. He continued to speak of his father, keeping their similar fates to himself. "It drove Dad over the edge, and he pulled Dean and me right along with him."

"Dean told me you traveled around a lot, that the farm was your home."

"Dean was my home." Sam loved Pastor Jim and the family they found within The Brotherhood, but he hadn't needed it the way Dean had. He had come to understand that over the years. Sam had always been sheltered by his brother. "He raised me, took care of me when my father couldn't see past his own selfishness to do so. If not for Pastor Jim, I'm not sure we would have made it. He and the people he connected us to were the only good things to come from my father's quest, and even then the rewards were bittersweet."

"I understand why your father hunted, but Pastor Jim…he seemed so peaceful."

"Hunters do what they do for different reasons. Some come to it like my dad; others do it out of duty to their family, or out of a sense of honor." Sam thought of Joshua and Caleb. "Jim was a hunter for all the right reasons. He wanted to protect people, save them. He believed in the greater good and the sanctity of life. Dean hunts for those very same reasons."

"Why do you do it?" Juliet stared at him, her dark eyes wide and unblinking.

"I hunt for penance." He knew she was wondering what he could have done that was so terrible. He could hunt lifetimes and never feel clean. "I'm not the altar boy Dean brags about."

"He loves you very much." She glanced to the house again. "Caleb, too. It shows on his face when he talks about you."

"I know." Sam didn't need anyone to tell him how his brother felt. Dean's actions spoke to the depths of their bond, a connection shared equally on both their parts now. It gave him the strength to say what he needed to. "He loves you, too."

"Maybe love's overrated." Juliet's eyes filled and she looked away.

"You don't believe that." Sam doubted his brother would fall for a cynic. "If you did you would have been gone the moment I pulled out that vial of snake venom."

"I took an oath, you know."

"Not the Hippocratic Oath." Sam gave a half-grin. "Despite his tendency to chase every tail coming and going, Caleb isn't a dog."

"He kind of reminds me of a German Shepherd." She smiled. "You two have an interesting relationship."

"We're not gay." Sam knew what his brother had told her. He liked she pretended to be shocked at the new revelation.

"Women everywhere heave a sigh of relief."

"Dean would be relieved if you came back inside." He wasn't above using her kindness against her. "Caleb might need further treatment."

"No…" She shook her head, all levity fleeing. "I appreciate you explaining, but it doesn't change anything. This is all beyond me."

"Normal can be lonely," Sam said. It was a warning. He knew how hard it was to leave his brother behind. "Dean won't come after you." Dean would respect her decision; see it as doing the right thing for her.

"I don't expect him to." Juliet stepped around her door. "I need some time to process."

"If after your processing you decide to come back - you need to know you can't change him. You have to accept him the way he is. He's not a project." Sam had been down that road, and realized too late Dean was great as is. He wanted to make sure he and Juliet understood one another. "I don't want to see my brother hurt."

"Neither do I." She bit her lip, her arms hugging her chest. "I won't be back."

"I felt certain about that once, too." Sam understood she realized the danger Dean was in on a daily basis. It was more than likely one of the reason she was leaving. Just as their Dad had learned all those years ago, evil lurked around every corner. He couldn't hold her fear against her. Sam wasn't a hypocrite.

"Goodbye, Sam." Juliet got in the car.

"Wait." Sam caught the door before she could shut it. "Just in case you change your mind, apple pie is Dean's favorite, followed closely by peach. Dean thinks Marlene at The Dinner Bell in downtown New Haven is a goddess of pastry. I have it in good confidence that he'll do practically anything for a slice of whatever she bakes."

Juliet gave him a sad smile. "Thanks for the tip."

Sam closed her door, watched her pull out of the drive before heading back to the house. Dean surprised him by being in the kitchen. "Everything okay?"

"Caleb needed something to drink," Dean held up the glass of water. "Juliet get off okay?"

"She's gone." Sam knew it wasn't what his brother was hoping for, but had expected it just the same.

"I told her she didn't know what she was in for."

"How's Caleb doing?" Sam hoped to change the subject.

"He's in a lot of pain." Dean ran a hand over his mouth, his silver hunter's ring flashing in the light. "To quote Damien, this fucking sucks."

"He'll be okay." Sam held his gaze, running his thumb over his silver ring. "How about you? You okay?"

"Triad empathy thing must be kicking in despite the overkill." Dean gave a harsh laugh, rubbing his glassy eyes. "I'm hurting, too."

"Things will look better tomorrow." Sam broke his own rule and lied. A broken heart wasn't as easy to treat as nymph venom. Seeing those he loved hurting was something he would never get used to. He pointed to the table where Juliet had left her care package. "But on the bright side we have pie and wine."

Dean's laugh was real this time. He picked up the boxed dessert, giving it a discerning eye. "It's cherry, but it will have to do."

"Next time around will be better, the real thing," Sam said, grabbing the wine. Caleb would bitch because he couldn't join in. Sam would make him feel better by telling him his manly reputation was restored.

"A great apple pie is hard to come by." Dean sighed, wistfully.

"But worth waiting for," Sam said. He looked at his brother. "No one deserves a slice of happiness more than you, Bro."

Dean grinned. "Now you sound gay."

Sam laughed, tossing his arm around his brother's shoulders. "I prefer to call it being sensitive."

RCJ

A/N: Of course we know Juliet comes back. The girl's not crazy. But you can catch a glimpse of how it takes place in Tidia's upcoming story called Life Event. The summer of fluff is almost over, with both of us only having one story left in the series. It will then be back to work on the regular stuff with the new season, as September isn't that far away. Yeah!


	8. Birthday Surprises

Birthday Surprises

Beta: Tidia

A/N: A very kind reader pointed out that this story was up at The Tomb, and not with the rest of the series so I thought I would remedy that by adding it in seeing as we're are almost at the end of the summer of fluff. If you've been to The Tomb you might have read it already. So I appologize. Tidia's new story When the Worst Happens is coming up very soon, and then my story The Decisive Moment should wrap it all up! Let's just say neither one of them are your typical ball of fluff. Less than a month to the season premiere. Can't wait!

***RCJ* **

"Maxim?"

The sound of his name had Max looking up from the menu, searching the crowd of people waiting for a table at the popular pizza joint. Pisano's Pies was his favorite place to eat in downtown Louisville, and not because of the college girls that hung out there. The food was amazing. He felt lucky to score a booth during lunch time. The Derby had run the weekend before with tourist still bombarding the city. The tiny restaurant was packed with people, loud with conversation and music.

"Maxim Sawyer?"

Max put the menu down as a man with silvery blond hair stepped through the line of customers. The dude was tall, about his Grandfather Mac's age dressed in a suit, the expensive kind his dad wore to the office. He looked harmless, but Max still checked for the closest exit.

"It is you. My God, you're practically grown."

The man's voice held a distinct awe. Yet, it was the slick smile that triggered the recognition. He had to hand it to Uncle Bobby. He hit the nail on the head when he described his Dad's father as slimy. Max looked around, wishing he hadn't offered to come ahead for the table to escape one of JT's trips to Flash, the hole-in-the-wall camera shop across the street. "What are you doing here?"

"You know who I am?"

Max gave a sharp nod. "Harland Sawyer."

The answer seemed to please the old guy. He took Max's answer as an invitation to claim a seat on the other side of the booth. "That's right. I'm your grandfather."

Max straightened. As far as he was concerned his grandfather was Mackland Ames, the man he'd known his entire life, not the guy from the picture albums who his Dad did not talk about. "What are you doing here?" He repeated his earlier question, unsure of what else to say.

The smile stayed in place. "I'm in Louisville for a job. I mostly stick to research now."

Max knew of other older hunters that still hung onto the fringes of The Brotherhood. No one really ever retired. It was like the classic God Father movie once you were in, you were in for life.

"I couldn't believe my luck when I saw you at the Louisville Slugger Museum. I couldn't pass the opportunity to meet you."

"Maybe you should leave." Harland had been at the museum, which meant he'd seen JT. Max wondered why Harland didn't approach him them, if he had waited for he and JT to separate. The thought had Max glancing towards Flash, wondering if JT made it okay. His best friend was fourteen. They both knew the downtown city well, but Max had promised Caleb they would stay together. He was regretting the temporary split-up.

"I can't believe how much you've grown." Harland didn't seem to hear him. "You look like Joshua when he was your age."

Max squirmed uncomfortably under the intense scrutiny, resisting the urge to run a hand through his blond hair. He was used to hearing he resembled his father. The fact they shared their light coloring and blue eyes with the eldest Sawyer wasn't lost on him. Harland leaned closer across the table, staring at Max as if he were some kind of freaky fun house mirror. Max glanced at the man's hands as they crept closer to his, the silver hunter's ring catching his eye.

"You could never deny being a Sawyer."

"Never intended to." Max was proud of his name and his father, not only for his position in The Brotherhood, but for the way he put their family first.

Harland laughed. "Straightforward. I like that. Seems like you inherited some of my gumption, despite the fact I've been denied getting to know you. "

"I better go. People are waiting for me." Max knew bits and pieces of why Harland wasn't a part of his family's life, but also understood there were important pieces he'd been shielded from. Max wasn't lacking in the family department, and you really didn't miss what you didn't know. Honestly, he hadn't given Harland Sawyer much thought until faced with the man in person. The mystery loomed between them, giving Harland an upper hand that had Max sliding towards the end of the booth. He didn't like being at a disadvantage.

"But I only just got here."

Max refrained from pointing out there was the reason for his early departure, unsure of how his knack for sometimes saying the wrong thing at the worst times might play out with this stranger. "I don't think my dad would like me talking to you."

"But you're nearly a man yourself." Harland leaned back spreading his arms to rest on the back of the booth. Max noticed he was bigger than his dad, still muscular and fit, despite his age. "I mean, didn't you just have a birthday this past week?"

Max felt his face flush at the implication. He wasn't a kid anymore. "I'm sixteen."

"I know. I would have sent you a present, but your father returns my mail." Harland's grin was back. "You're becoming a man now. That means you can make decisions for yourself. You no longer have to live under anyone's thumb."

"I guess." Max willed his hands to stay still. His father had told him practically the same thing; adding that with more freedom came more responsibility. At the time the prospect seemed like an adventure, now the reality was becoming more complicated. He looked at his phone tossed on the table with the bag from the candy store.

"It won't be long until you'll be getting your ring."

Max glanced up at the sudden change in topic. "Most hunters don't get their rings until their twenty-one."

Harland's smile widened, his overly white teeth flashing brightly. Max thought of the strange cat from his little sister's favorite book Alice in Wonderland.

"But you're not a typical hunter. You're from an excellent family line, your father is the Advisor to The Triad, and you're best friends with The Guardian's son. That was a brilliant strategy on your father's part. Maybe he learned something from me after all."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Max glanced at the people milling around them. The cute brunette he'd talked to on the way in was working on her computer. His waitress was serving another table. No one was paying attention. Max imagined for the first time they probably looked like a kid and his grandfather out for a Saturday lunch. The deception was disconcerting.

"I hear that you've been training with Reaves." Harland seemed completely at ease, unaware or unconcerned by Max's rising apprehension. "Seems to me you might be on the fast track to becoming the next Knight. It's about time a Sawyer held his rightful place."

"I don't know." Max loved training to be a hunter. He and JT liked to talk about getting their rings, daydream about the roles they might someday play in The Brotherhood, but no one spoke to him about specifics of the future. He had been on a handful of real hunts closely supervised by his father or uncle. Max had a hard enough time trying to figure out what classes to take for his junior year of high school, then there was college to consider.

"I see now that your father wasn't cut out for the position of Knight, but you're quite different. It makes sense him relocating here. He would want you to be close to the Winchester boys if they're in line for positions."

The unsettling feeling unfurling in Max's stomach took root at the mention of the Winchesters. He realized he should have left as soon as Harland sat down. He grabbed his stuff, and slid closer to the end of the booth. "I'm out of here."

Harland held up his hands, gesturing for Max to stop. "Wait, Maxim. I didn't mean to pry."

"It's Max." Only his grandmother Esme called him Maxim.

"_Max_… It's just I'm overwhelmed to see you. I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable. There's just so much I'd like to know about you-things a grandfather should know."

Max hesitated, torn by the pleading tone the man's voice had taken, the earnest look on Harland's face. Without the fake smile, he looked more like his dad. He even sounded like Max's father.

"Please. Really, I didn't mean any harm, Son. Sit down; spend just a minute with me until your friends come. Tell me something about yourself. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Not really." Max had taken Cecily Matthews to the Homecoming Dance, but they weren't exclusive.

"Better to play the field." Harland nodded enthusiastically. "You'll have them eating out of the palm of your hand. Trust me."

Max put his bag back on the table, his eyes going to the clock on the wall. JT should have been here by now.

"What about a car? Have you picked one out yet?"

Max shrugged. "I won't get my license until next year." Anyone else asking that question would have gotten an excited spiel about the Chevy Tahoe parked in the barn at the Winchester farm. Max would have explained how it had been practically a scrap heap at Uncle Bobby's when he'd first seen her. After some finagling on Caleb's part, his dad had caved and let him have 'the death trap' for his birthday. Dean was helping him work on her. The Guardian even had an idea for a hybrid engine.

"Never too soon to start dreaming about your first set of wheels." Harland gestured to the door, scooting closer to where Max was standing. "You know, I have a sweet ride just outside. I'd be glad to let you take her for a spin-no license required."

"Max?"

Max stepped away from the table at the sound of JT's voice. He watched his friend push through the group of people, holding up his bag from Flash as he made it to his side.

"You're never going to believe what I found." JT's voice trailed off and his smile faded. "What's wrong? You look like you just saw a…"

"Johnathan Winchester?" Harland interrupted, turning to look at JT. "Maxim isn't the only one who looks like his father. You're Dean made over."

"Don't talk to him." Max stepped slightly in front of JT.

JT glanced to Harland, then back to Max, arching a brow. "What's going on?"

"We're leaving." Max turned to JT. "That's what's going on."

"But what about the pizza? You've been talking about lunch since dinner last night."

"Boys." Harland stood quickly. "Don't leave on my account."

"I've lost my appetite." Max gave his best friend a slight shove to get him moving. He breathed a sigh of relief when they made it to the door.

Once outside, JT stopped and looked at him. "You never turn down pizza; especially pizza from Pisano's when Uncle Caleb is buying. What's wrong with you? Who was that guy in there?"

"Can we just go somewhere else?" Maxim jutted his chin towards the intersection. "Check's Cafe sounds good. And that guy was nobody."

"Mr. Nobody knew our names."

"Come on." Max started for the street. "We'll call Uncle Caleb. I'll explain about him later."

He turned to leave, wanting to put as much distance between he, JT and Pisano's, but found his arm caught in a vice-like grip. "Maxim. Wait."

Harland's hold brought him up short. Max's momentum caused him to stumble, bumping into JT. It was pure luck they both managed to stay on their feet. Max glared at Harland. "What is your problem?"

"I just wanted…"

"Get the hell away from them."

Max met JT's gaze, both boys quickly turning their heads to where their uncle now stood just a few feet away from them on the sidewalk. James was at his side. Max didn't miss the fact Caleb held out a hand to keep the twelve-year-old from coming any closer to them or Harland.

"It's not what you think, Reaves," Harland said.

Uncle Caleb closed the distance between them in two long strides. "Let Max go." He snagged the back of JT's hoodie, pulling him behind him before nudging him over to James. His angry gaze never left Harland. "Now!"

Harland did as demanded. Max quickly stepped away, rubbing his arm where his grandfather had grabbed him.

"What the hell are you doing here, Harland?"

Uncle Caleb took a step closer to the older man, cornering Harland against Pisano's brick front. "My grandson and I were just talking. He forgot his things. I was just trying to catch him before he left."

Harland held up his hands, and Max noticed his bag and phone. "Shit." He'd left them on the table in his rush to leave.

"Max?" Caleb cut his gaze to him.

"I was waiting on JT. I didn't even know who he was." Max stepped forward to take his things from Harland, but Caleb stepped in front of him tearing the items from Harland's hand.

"You know better, you sonofabitch. You've been warned before."

Harland shook his head. "This is a public place, Reaves. You have no jurisdiction here."

"I have jurisdiction anywhere anything belonging to The Triad is threatened. Do you understand me? You're lucky I don't end you for even approaching the boys, much less talking to them."

"Again, we're in a public place. I think running me through with a sword would be a little hard to explain to the local authorities. Don't you?" Harland looked at Max, then flicked his gaze to JT and James. "Are you going to accost an old man? There are the children to consider."

Max looked at the Winchesters. JT met his gaze with a worried frown, but James had eyes only for the heated stand-off. Max recognized the kid's barely contained glee, the front row seat to a real-life UFC match was a tantalizing prospect.

Caleb stepped closer to Harland, blocking his view of the younger boys. "I'd be more worried about The Guardian and how he might consider your actions. You really want to lose all ties to The Brotherhood."

"I meant no disrespect to The Guardian. I'm sure he understands the lengths a man will go for family."

Despite the fact his uncle lowered his voice, Max still heard him. "You have _no _family here, Sawyer. Are we clear on that?"

Harland finally nodded, Caleb stepped away. He turned to Max to hand him his phone and bag. "Take the boys across the street. Wait for me at our back-up spot."

"But…" Max opened his mouth, not liking the idea of splitting up, but one look from his uncle had him giving a contrite nod. "Yes, Sir."

He gestured to JT and James. "Do you think Uncle Caleb's going to kill him?" The youngest boy asked as they crossed over to Main Street, heading to Germantown.

"No," JT said, bumping his younger brother's shoulder. "Hunters don't kill humans, moron."

Max glanced over his shoulder. Their uncle might make an exception. He was slightly relieved when Caleb showed up at the burger place ten minutes later looking grim, sporting no signs of recent bloodshed.

"Boys."

"Who was that?" James asked.

Uncle Caleb reached out, tugging James's Red Sox cap lower over his eyes. "Nobody important, kiddo."

James shoved the cap up on his head. "Did you kick his ass?"

"Jimmy." JT elbowed his brother. "Language."

"What? It's not like you weren't wondering the same thing."

"I handled the situation, _tactfully_." Caleb raised a brow. "And that's the story you will share with your mom. Got it?"

James rolled his eyes. "Because she is so going to believe that about you."

Caleb crossed his arms. "As easy as she will believe that you plan on sharing half that candy loot you conned me into with your cousin Mary."

"That's blackmail," James said, holding his hulking bag of treats closer to his chest.

"Take it or leave it, Little Man."

"Fine," James said. "But I get to order two Derby pies."

"Deal." Uncle Caleb reached out and squeezed JT's shoulder. "Johnny, take the extortionist in and score us a table. Make sure he orders something substantial to go along with his chocolate fix."

"Okay."

Max watched his friend go, before meeting his uncle's gaze. "You mad?"

Caleb gestured to an empty bench in front of the restaurant. "Not at you."

Max took a seat, clasping his hands in front of him. "You going to tell Dad?"

"Absolutely."

"He'll be upset."

"Most definitely."

"I didn't mean for it to happen. I tried to get out of there as soon as JT came in…"

"Hey, this isn't your fault. Josh isn't going to be pissed at you."

"But The Guardian…"

"Dean won't be angry either."

"I don't want to screw up." It was one of Max's big fears, disappointing those around him. "He trusts me."

"For good reason." Caleb bumped his shoulder. "Despite the little incident last month with Cecily and Sydney Matthews."

"You guys never did buy it was JT's idea."

"That's because JT is a whole hell of a lot like his Uncle Sam when it comes to girls."

"James wanted to go in his place, even though Sydney is like five years older than him."

"Now that I believe. That kid is his father made over."

Max frowned. "That's what Harland said about me."

Uncle Caleb's jaw clenched. "What else did he say to you?"

Max shrugged, not wanting to make any more waves. The day was supposed to be fun, a way to celebrate his sixteenth birthday. It had turned into anything but. "Nothing important."

"Something upset you." Caleb tapped his forehead. "Psychic bat signal started flashing red."

Max knew it was useless to lie. "He asked me about when I would get my hunter's ring. Then he started rambling on about me being the next Knight, and how it was good strategy that Dad moved us here to Kentucky all those years ago, and how that meant something about JT and James's positions."

Caleb rubbed his eyes. "You need to forget that bullshit, Max. Put it out of your head. Harland's priorities are royally screwed up."

"Is that why Dad cut him out of his life?" Max leaned against the bench. "He never talks about him." He and his dad communicated better as Max got older.

"Sometimes when there's nothing good to say, it's better to say nothing at all."

"But what if not knowing is worse?" Max turned to look at his uncle. "I mean, you're always telling me to know my enemy, to research a job completely, intel is the key…but in there with Harland, I felt completely caught off guard, unprepared. I mean is the guy really some kind of monster, and if he is what does that make me?"

"Let's get this straight, whatever Harland is, has nothing, and I mean _nothing_ whatsoever to do with you."

"But he's my family and…"

"You can't escape your family, kid. Trust me, I've tried. But they don't have to define who you are."

"So, Harland _is_ a bad guy? But he's a hunter? He wears a ring."

"Not everything is black and white in the grown-up world, Max."

Max licked his lips. "Did he hurt people?"

Caleb sighed, ran a hand through hair. "I think that's a good question to ask your Dad."

"Back there with Harland you said he'd been warned before? What did you mean?"

"Another very good question for Josh."

Max recognized the dead end street. "Do you think Dad really hates Harland?"

"I think your dad has good reasons for however he feels about his old man." Caleb made sure he was looking at him. "Not all dads are like yours, JT's and James's. You guys and Mary hit the parent lottery."

Max's mouth twitched. "We kind of lucked out in the uncle department, too."

Caleb stood with a shake of his head. "You do realize I've already given you your birthday present, Slick. This free lunch is the cherry on top."

Max shoved off the bench, purposively bumping into Caleb as he made it to the door. "As James says, it never hurts to get a jumpstart on Christmas."

Caleb wrapped a hand around the back of his neck giving a hard squeeze. "Just remember that when you tell your mother how I handled the situation with Harland."

"Sure thing." Max laughed. "Mom loves you."

RCJ

Continued in Tidia's story Patriarchal Lineage


	9. The Decisive Moment

The Decisive Moment

By: Ridley James

Beta: Tidia

Summary: Dean, Caleb and Sam realize a little too late they've underestimated John Winchester's wisdom.

A/N: Well, here we are at the end of the 'Summer of Fluff'. This story isn't actually all that fluffy, it has some teeth too. It was definitely inspired by Tidia's _When the Worst Happens. _For all of you who wanted more Dean and Sam interacting with the boys, this one is for you. Hope you enjoy. Thanks to Tidia for putting up with my craziness, her good ideas and to Tara who added insight after her read through. Let me know what you think!

"**The decisive moment, it is the simultaneous recognition, in a fraction of a second,**

**of the significance of an event…"-Henri Carier-Bresson**

RCJ

His cell phone was ringing. Dean recognized the familiar Star Wars theme he'd designated for Caleb. Dean sighed when he saw that it was just after midnight. He grabbed the small earpiece from the nightstand. "This better be good, Damien." Dean kept his voice low so not to wake Juliet. She was used to late night calls, whether Brotherhood related or her own emergencies from the animal clinic. "Working people are in bed."

"_Dean, where are the boys?" _

"What's wrong?" The uncharacteristic use of his name had Dean quickly sitting up, forgetting his thoughts of sleep. Damien's tone knotted his gut with dread. His first thoughts were of Ben, home for the weekend, but out on the town with some of his old high school buddies.

"_Is JT there?" _

"No." Dean kicked the covers off his legs. He instinctively strained his ears, desperately hoping to catch some sounds of his sons from down the hall, but knew their beds were empty. He'd been relieved to have a weekend of quiet, the summer giving the boys too much quality time together so that they were at each other's throats and on his nerves . He never remembered fighting so much with Sam or Caleb. Juliet was already looking at extended school programs for next year. "Why? What's going on?"

"_Where the hell is he? Josh's?"_

"No. They went camping. Max is with them." Dean got out of bed, nearly stepping on D'Artagnan who had invaded their room in the boys' absence. He stumbled towards the bathroom, quietly closing the door before flipping the light. "Damien?"

"_I know they're together. I had a vision. We need to get to them." _

"You asked about JT? What the fuck did you see?" The pause was too long. Caleb was thinking of how to spin it, that was never a good thing. "Just tell me, goddamnit!"

"_I saw a spirit, a really pissed off spirit. I don't know if it's happened yet. Can you call them?" _

"No." Dean rubbed a hand over his mouth, his mistake stirring the bile already churning his stomach. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. Hunters never worked without a means of communication, but these were his sons. They were at a church function not on a gig. He closed his eyes, moving to the toilet. Dean felt sick. "They weren't allowed to take their phones, no technology of any sorts."

"_What the fuck?" _

"I know!" Dean growled. So much for getting back to grass roots and communing with nature. He didn't need The Knight yelling at him. He had royally screwed up. It was a harmless camping trip with the youth group; one Ben had gone on twice with no incident when he was younger. "Just tell me what else you saw, man."

"_They were attacked. JT's hurt."_

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, bringing his fist to his mouth. "How bad?"

"_We need to hurry." _

"Shit."

"_How far away are they?" _

"Not far. North Carolina. I've got a map" Ben put a copy on the refrigerator. He had highlighted the trail for JT, pointing out some scenic waterfalls and balds he thought his younger brother might like. At least somebody was on their game. "Ben knows the area. He's home for the weekend. We can meet you."

"_Good. I'm not too far." _

Dean recalled the hunt Caleb had just finished with Ethan. They had been in Arkansas. "I'll call Sammy. Juliet can stay with Mary. Someone needs to call Josh. I think he's in L.A. on business."

"_Deuce…there's something else."_

Dean held his breath, afraid of what his best friend might have been holding back. "Tell me."

"_I sensed another presence, something different from the spirit." _

"Damien?"

"_It was demon." _

Dean's body tensed, his muscles threatening to snap under the strain. The war was supposed to be behind them. He was cold, all panic dissolving under the familiar threat. He breathed deeply, his mind narrowing to focus on one goal, and one goal only. His children would be fine. Everyone was coming home alive. No other end was acceptable. "I'll call you from the road."

RcJ*SnsnsnsN*RcJ

James Murphy Winchester was not a happy camper. He was hot, tired, covered in bug bites and what might have been poison ivy. The three night wilderness trip with the church's youth group had seemed like a cool way to spend the final weekend of summer break. It would get him out of his normal chores around the farm. There would be camping, swimming, Smores, and ample opportunity for him to show off his outdoor prowess to Holly West.

Ben had talked it up as a once in a life-time experience. James should have been suspicious that his oldest brother had liked the trip when he was a teenager. Siblings were not to be trusted. There was no mention of the freakishly large mosquitoes, the inescapable heat, or treacherous plant life. Holly batting her eyes at Max Sawyer all weekend was just the icing on the cake.

"This sucks!" His idiot brother, JT had them back on the trail in the middle of the night adding to the already eight miles of hiking they had done earlier in the day with the group. When the two older boys in front of him didn't respond, James picked up a rock and threw it at JT's back. Like the other two he'd already bounced off his brother, this one wasn't big enough to do any damage, but he hoped it hurt.

"That's it!" It was enough to garner a reaction. JT stopped his forward stride and turned to glare at James while trying to rub the unreachable spot between his shoulder blades. He shined his flashlight in James's face. "Do it again and I'm leaving you hogtied on the side of the trail for the rangers to find."

"I'd like to see you try." James didn't care if his brother was older, had the height and weight advantage. In sparring JT always held back a little because James was younger and smaller and JT was just a little too nice for his own good. It had given James an advantage over the years. One he had no problem exploiting.

"I can have you pinned, roped and gagged in ten seconds flat," Max said. He was standing beside JT, strands of his long blond hair plastered to his face by sweat. James knew JT was the only one of the three psyched about the trip so far, but Max would take JT's side on principle alone. "So quit being a brat before I destroy you."

"Whatever, douche bag." Max who was _not_ nice was admittedly a bigger threat than JT, but James's misery had him feeling reckless. Most times James appreciated the fact Max didn't hold anything back; that the older boy didn't coddle him. However, it didn't bode well for pissing him off, especially when there was no adult supervision. "One word from me to Uncle Caleb and you're running maneuvers until you hurl."

"It will be hard to talk to Uncle Caleb with a fat lip." Max started toward him.

"Don't," JT said, catching Max's arm.

"Why not?"

"He's hot, itchy and tired." JT adjusted the strap on his daypack, wiping the back of his arm over his forehead with a heavy sigh. "Let it go."

"No, I'm not." James frowned at his brother's tolerant tone, acting as if he were a parent dealing with a cranky toddler.

JT continued to talk to Max as if James hadn't spoken. "He's trying to push your buttons."

"It's working." Max pulled away. "He's done nothing but bitch and moan since we left camp. I don't understand why he came with us in the first place."

"It's a free world." James had come along on his brother's jaunt because it was too freaking hot in their tent to sleep, and was secretly hoping for some kind of action, like catching the girls skinny dipping by moonlight. JT had other plans, much geekier ones. "If anyone is the tag-a-long here it's you. You're not _even in_ the youth group. You only visit the church on weekends when you stay at the farm."

"Jimmy," JT warned.

"It's true." James rolled his eyes at his brother's concern for other people's feelings. Max's ego was oblivious to insults. He also hated camping, considering Pastor Jim's cabin as extreme roughing it. There was only one reason he opted in, but JT was blind to it. "You just came to make time with the girls."

"Like that's not why you were so hot to sign up for Logan's foray into the forest." Max didn't deny it, but of course turned it back on James.

"Logan's a cool guy," James defended. "He made it sound fun and educational." Logan was their youth pastor, friends with Ben. He'd hiked the entire Appalachian Trail with his roommate after graduating from college and believed one could find spiritual enlightenment by reconnecting with nature. James hadn't really caught much of the minister's excited spiel about the trip because Holly had chosen that morning to wear a sundress. James could just make out the tan lines left by her bathing suit strap from two pews behind her.

"Yeah because you're so into flora and fauna." Max stared him down. "Don't think I didn't notice you scanned the sign-up sheet for a certain redhead's name before putting your John Hancock. The only nature you had on your mind was the birds and the bees."

"Hey!" JT panned his light between them, momentarily blinding them both. "Cut it out. Dad would call Pot and Kettle. Let's just leave it at that, get back to camp before anyone notices we're gone."

"He started it." Max pointed accusingly at James.

"You're the one who stuck your nose where it didn't belong." James hadn't forgotten how Max had found the perfect excuse to take his shirt off in front of the girls by offering it to clumsy Tara, who'd fallen in the creek while trying to cross it. Holly practically swooned.

"Please tell me you're not talking about the little girl you like because she's a_ kid_." Max made sure 'kid' sounded like a slur. "I'm a senior."

"She's my age!" Holly and James would both be in the eighth grade at New Haven Middle and Max wouldn't technically be a senior until school started back. "Thirteen!"

"Exactly my point," Max said in the smug way that made James want to smash him in the face. "She's practically a baby."

"You two are worse than Josie and Mary." JT had his hands on his hips, eyebrows drawn together in what James liked to call his holier than though face.

"Shut up." James lifted his middle finger in his brother's direction. JT comparing him to their baby cousin and Max's little sister had James redirecting his wrath. "This is all your fault!"

"My fault?"

"You're the one who was so pumped about camping." James watched JT's face go from self-righteous to indignant. "You're the one who just had to have that perfect shot from the ridge."

"He has a point," Max jumped in, surprising James by taking his side. "You did drag us out in the middle of the night for some stupid picture of the moon."

"I didn't ask you two to come," JT said. He started walking again, panning the flashlight in front of them. "I would have been fine by myself. _I'm_ the Eagle Scout."

"Please, Henri." Max snorted. He slid over to make room for James. "You were so focused on lighting, lenses and shutter speed you would have walked right off the ridge if we hadn't been there to watch your back."

"Don't forget him finding his 'decisive moment'," James said, stepping in between them. JT had been obsessed with the famous photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson for the last two years. His hero-worship of the father of photojournalism verged on fanatical and provided Max and James with a lot of good material. JT found making fun of the world's greatest photographer blasphemous, which only made it funnier. It only got better when Uncle Caleb used one of his art contacts to track down the coveted pristine copy of Cartier-Bresson's photo book _The Decisive Moment_ for JT's birthday. JT put it on display above his bed. No one was allowed to touch it, more hallowed than his collection of autographed Red Sox baseballs.

"Right," JT said. "I was lucky I could concentrate at all with you and Max sniping at each other."

"So if you didn't get the Pulitzer Prize winning shot you're hoping for, it's going to be our fault?" Max asked.

"Most definitely," JT replied.

"I'm more interested in seeing him explain how he got the shot," James said. JT could block out a sonic blast when he was behind a camera lens. He could also become obsessed with a shot to the exclusion of everything else - including parental wrath. "Mom's going to notice the picture was taken at night and that it was taken from an extremely high location. Remember when you had to have that picture of the elusive barn owl. She busted you for climbing up into the rafters."

"He's right." Max reached over and tugged the camera strap hanging around JT's neck. "That's damning evidence against us. Dean will be pissed I went along with your sucky plan. I vote it never sees the light of day."

"I always go along with your sucky plans. I'm developing it," JT said, quickening his pace as if the potential photo might be in danger. "I'll just tell them I manipulated the image."

"You mean lie?" James laughed. The suggestion was hilarious. "To Mom and Dad?"

"Yes," JT said.

Max shook his head, James catching his grin even in the faint moonlight. "Not very Eagle Scout of you, Dude."

"Not very likely either," James said. "He can't even lie to us, let alone an adult. Then there's the whole breaking rules thing. Not great at that either. It's why you didn't ask Pastor Logan if you could go back to the bald. You knew he would say no, and you didn't want to be in direct insubordination."

"I can lie," JT argued. "I break rules."

"You told us you were going to take a piss," Max said. "Ten bucks says you have your Eagle Scout handbook on you somewhere."

"That was a plausible story." JT huffed, not commenting on the manual.

"La-me," Max stretched the word into two syllables.

"You had your backpack and your camera," James said. JT and his Nikon might have been inseparable, but there wasn't much to see between where they had pitched their tent and the tree line. "And you shifted your eyes slightly to the right."

"Whatever." JT pulled farther ahead of them. "How about you two find your own way back to camp?"

"I could do it if I had to." James was almost certain that was true. He was a good tracker, but hadn't exactly been focused on their surroundings on the way out of camp.

"We didn't mark the trail." Max flashed him a doubtful look. "I think I'll stick with the Eagle Scout."

"Chicken shit," James called after Max who kicked his pace up to a jog to catch up to JT. James wasn't in the mood for a run. Tormenting his brother had momentarily taken his mind from his current misery, but they were still a good couple of miles from camp, and James was getting a headache. He stopped for a drink from his canteen, figuring dehydration as the culprit.

"Keep moving, Jimmy," JT called without turning around. "I'm not kidding about leaving you."

"See my earlier note about Uncle Caleb," James hissed. He took a long drink before recapping the flask. The water was cool on his parched throat, but the headache notched up. The sudden increase in pain had him thinking he would lay it on thick for The Knight, hoping their uncle would relish doling out extra training to the two bullies.

"There could be bears."

Max's voice floated back to him and James clenched his fists. He hated bears. Pushing past the throbbing in his skull, James started moving again only to find himself face to face with another person on the trail.

"Shit!" he yelped, stumbling backwards. The headache made sense now as bitter cold permeated his body, quickly displacing the heat of the humid night. It was a warning-dead man walking or in this case, hiking. James gripped his skull in his hands. "Shit."

_"You see the truth. You tell them." _The man lifted one of his decayed arms, pointing a skeleton finger at James. _"Tell them all." _

James shook his head, stepping around the displaced spirit to keep room between them. Being clairvoyant and clairaudient also made him vulnerable to a sort of metaphysical connection. He had learned quickly to never let them touch him. In the three months since his abilities fully surfaced, James had encountered only a hand full of ghosts after Carrie Beth. He never got use to the ghastly apparitions. Some of them looked like normal people, but others appeared as if they had just clawed their ways from their graves. Mac assured him it was a work in progress, but James felt frustrated at his fledgling attempts at control. With Uncle Caleb's help he was trying to learn to block them, take charge of what took place in his head. Joshua had given him special crystals to wear that acted like a ghost force field, but James had taken the pouch off back in the tent.

_"You see the truth. You tell them."_

"Get out of my way, and out of my head." Vapor Guy didn't get that James wasn't interested in being his personal messenger. He flickered, reappearing once more to block James's path. James couldn't stop the whimper that escaped. The experiences were more painful now that he was trying to stop them, but until James got a grip, avoiding the dead was his first priority.

"Jimmy?"

JT's voice was clearer, closer. He was coming back. "Spirit," James managed to get the word out past the blinding pain, but doubted it held any volume.

"JT, hold up," Max called.

James lifted his head, blinking to see his brother running toward him, Max right on his heels.

"Jimmy?" JT reached him first, gripping his arm. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"This better not be your sick sense of humor," Max said. "You'll need a travois to get off this freaking mountain."

James hoped the look he gave Max communicated what he was thinking. He pulled in a breath, fighting to clear his head. "Dead guy… right behind you."

"What? Where?" Max turned, panning his flashlight to scan the trail and tree-line behind them.

"A spirit's trying to communicate with you?" JT demanded.

"Yahtzee." James used one of their father's favorite terms. Ghost Guy was still staring at him, his mouth moving silently. James guessed the thing had been worm food for a very long time. Grandpa Mac had a theory; the longer spirits stayed on the physical plane after death the more human skills they lost. Communication was shot, along with things like empathy and a conscience. It wasn't an ideal combination. "He's not very good at it."

"You're not supposed to talk to them until you can protect yourself," JT said. "Remember you're not ready for the center ring."

James groaned at his brother's reference to Mac's metaphor. Their pseudo grandfather had compared James's interactions with spirits to that of a lion tamer. At the moment, James didn't have the chair and whip to keep the ghosts in line, let alone make them perform the way he wanted. He was on kitten level, having nothing to keep the wild beasts from banging him around like a tiny cat toy.

"I'm guessing he didn't pull him up on the ghost chat line, J," Max said, still searching the area.

"Where are the crystals Joshua gave you?" JT asked. "You're supposed to keep them on like our pendants."

"I left them in the tent," James said. His brother's grip tightened and he knew JT was holding back on the reprimand. James knew it was a stupid move on his part, but it was embarrassing to explain the medicine bag. The silver dragon was cool; a bunch of hocus pocus crystals were not. He only wore it when he thought he had to.

"Is it gone?" Max flashed him a look.

"No." They couldn't be so lucky. "He's still behind you."

"Tell it to go away," JT said. "To go toward the light."

"Great idea, JT, because angry spirits are such people pleasers." James should have never let his brother and Max talk him into the all night Ghost Whisperer marathon. It made his stupid ability look like a cake walk. The air grew colder around them. James could see their breath now. The ghost flickered and when it reappeared it was more solid and visible to Max and JT.

"That's so wrong," Max muttered. "Like Rob Zombie wrong."

"_Tell them."_

"Tell them what?" James demanded, unable to hold his psychic shield any longer. With a heavy exhalation he let go. The pain in his head receded, overwhelming thoughts of anguish and despair swelling to take its place.

Wind picked up around them, dust and leaves lifting from the trail. Max grabbed his arm, prompting them to start moving. "Let's go. Back to camp and Dad's crystals."

Camp sounded good to James. He was never taking the medicine bag off again. His new spirit buddy had different plans. James read its intentions just as it reached out to Max. "Watch out!"

_"You must see. You will tell them."_

The spirit knocked Max to the ground. It could not only reveal itself but manipulate physical energy. James, caught up in Max's momentum, was nearly bowled over too. Only JT's grip kept him standing. "I don't understand what you want!"

"Leave him alone!" JT stepped in front of James. He was easily tossed to the side.

"Hey!" Max scrambled, taking JT's place as shield in front of James. "Back off, Casper!"

James covered his ears as the spirit screamed. Another focused force slammed into him and Max, taking both of them to the ground in a tangled pile.

"Fuck!" Max swore.

James had the breath knocked out of him, but managed to roll out from under the older teen. JT was just making it to his feet to the right of them. James watched his brother pull something from the side of his pack. He recognized the camping spade their father had given JT, remembering how Dad had said the extra weight was worth the blade being solid iron. JT must have recalled the same speech on ghosts 101 because he came at them swinging the spade like a short bat.

"Get away from them!" He struck the spirit, and it momentarily disappeared in a flashing flicker.

JT was able to press his advantage now, holding the spade out in front of him. He turned to Max. "Run!"

Max manhandled James, shoving him in front of him toward the trail. "Go! Go!"

James didn't have to be told twice. He took off into the darkness, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. He assumed the other two boys were right behind him, but hadn't gotten far when Max's voice brought him to a dead stop. "Come on, J. Move it!"

James swiveled around, finding Max only a few steps back, but realizing JT hadn't moved. Their flashlights were scattered on the ground; showcasing him in a halo of light. His idiot brother was now the willing performer in the center ring, iron spade instead of a whip, prepared to take on James's lion. "JT!"

It happened so quickly, nothing like how James had imagined when he read accounts of hunts in journals or listened intently to his father or one of his uncles recount some harrowing tale. JT was standing before them one moment, and in the next he was hurtling through the air. His brother cried out. James and Max began to run. There was a snapping of branches and then the dull thud as JT was thrown against a towering pine where he landed like a broken doll at its base.

"No!" Max yelled.

"JT!" The fear in James's voice was unrecognizable. The burning strain in his throat the only concrete proof it was him calling out to his brother.

Max dropped to his knees beside JT as James skidded to a halt near his brother's limp body. JT didn't move when Max touched him. He was laying flat on his back, his face turned away from James. "Grab one of the flashlights," Max ordered. James felt rooted in place, paralyzed by fear as he waited for his brother to sit up, give one of his lopsided grins to prove he was just fine. "Now, Jimmy!"

Max's tone broke the spell. James forced himself to move. He ran to the closest lantern, scooped it up, and grabbed the spade from where his brother had dropped it during the spirit's attack. James was going to have a very different kind of conversation with Ghost Guy when he showed his ugly face again.

"Is he alright?" He handed Max the light, kneeling on the other side of JT. "Max?"

"Give me a minute."

James bit his lip as Max brought the light to JT's face. Blood glistened dark and wet. It was coming quickly from somewhere on JT's head and there was more streaming beneath his nose. A swath of red already coated JT's face, running into his ear and down his neck to soak the collar of his t-shirt. "Max?!"

"He's breathing." Max placed his hand on JT's neck, glancing up at James. "He's got a pulse."

"He's bleeding!" The attempt at reassurance was wasted on James. "He's unconscious!"

"It's going to be okay, Jimmy." Max pulled off his shirt and James almost let out a hysterical giggle thinking how Holly would hate that she missed the moment. "This is just like when Ben hit him with the horseshoe."

"No. It's not." The heady scent of copper brought the memory in sudden focus for James. He was seven, maybe eight. It was Ben and Mom versus Uncle Sam and Dad. Dad pitched a ringer Ben was determined to imitate. He didn't realize how close JT was standing behind him until the iron horseshoe connected with JT's face. Ben hadn't meant to hurt JT, felt horrible after. Max was right about there being lots of blood. It was true JT blacked out. But _this_ was nothing like _then_. "Dad was there," he said.

Max didn't look at him as he tore his shirt into strips, but James caught the quick swallow, the way Max's gaze quickly skirted the darkness around them. He was worried, scared. Max didn't do scared. "Is that thing still around? Can you sense it?"

"I'm not sure." James placed the camping spade close beside him, closed his eyes trying to concentrate. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. Uncle Caleb had said he would learn to pick up on psychic trails, spikes of energy around him. It was how psychics knew when another telepath or supernatural entity was close by. James could sense Uncle Sam and Caleb when they were near, but his range sucked and he had not purposively made any other connections.

"That won't be enough to protect us." Max eyed the shovel. "We've got to do something else."

"Like what? We don't have salt or any other weapons." James had left everything at the tent. They were going on a hike not an orchestrated hunt where The Knight gave them a checklist and then stood over their shoulders as they packed and prepared. He felt vulnerable in a way he had never experienced, worse than his first day of school and the time he wondered off from Uncle Caleb in Central Park.

"A spell." Max reached down to his hiking boot, pulling a small blade from inside. "I should have thought of it sooner."

"What kind of spell?" James knew Max was hesitant to use magic, unlike his sister who loved to dabble in the craft.

"A defensive one. I read about it in Dad's journal."

"You're sure it will work?"

"You got a better idea?"

"No."

Max used the knife, scrambling to carve a large circle in the ground around the three of them before drawing several glyphs around the perimeter. He came back to the center kneeling once more by JT where he used the blade to make a smaller drawing. The Triad symbol.

"Why are you using that?" James asked, recognizing the three interlocking circles.

"It must amp up the power. Dad wrote that it was important."

"Okay."

"Now we need blood."

James gestured to his brother. "We have plenty."

"_Our_ blood."

"Great, this just keeps getting better."

Max drew the blade across his hand first, letting the red drops drip in the center of the Triad circles. James offered his palm before Max could reach for it. He barely felt the sting, turning his hand over to let his blood mix with Max's.

"Now JT."

"No." James grabbed Max's wrist. "Use what's already on the outside of his body."

Max shook his head, licking his lips. "Then it's not a sacrifice."

James let him go, knowing Max wouldn't willing put JT in more jeopardy. "Magic sucks."

"Reserve judgment. Your buddy just showed back up."

James flicked his gaze to the trail where the hiking horror had reappeared watching them. He was getting cold again, the hairs on his arms standing on end. "Hurry."

"Carving on my best friend here."

James chanced taking his eyes from the spirit, shifting his gaze to where Max was holding JT's lax hand above the Triad symbol. James instinctively reached out and covered his brother's cold fingers. JT's blood splashed with theirs. The reaction was instantaneous.

The three interlocking circles flared to life. There was a soft hum. The larger circle Max had drawn around them began to pulse and glow. They were engulfed in a sudden silent explosion of light, fading away so that only the protection ring stood out like a silver force field.

"You okay?" Max asked.

James looked up, removing his hand from atop his brothers. Ghost boy was gone. He managed a shaky grin. "Magic kicks ass."

"Reserve judgment." Max gently placed JT's hand on the ground, his face set in grim lines. "We're only protected as long as we stay inside the circle."

James looked at his brother. JT needed help now. It would be hours before any one at camp woke and realized they were gone. "We're screwed."

RcJ*SnsnsnsN*RcJ

"Shit!" Dean lifted his right hand from the steering wheel, squeezing his fingers into a fist. A cool burning sensation starting from his silver band rocked through his body like a shock wave. He cut his eyes to the passenger seat where Sam was flexing his hand. "Did you just feel that?"

"Oh yeah." Sam turned to him with a nod. "Loud and clear."

Dean chanced a glance in the rearview mirror. Caleb was watching him. He looked like shit. They had been driving a couple of hours since meeting up and were quickly nearing the trail head in North Carolina. Dean had seen several signs directing them to an exit for parking. It couldn't be a coincidence. "Damien?"

"That was a major disturbance in the Force, Luke." Caleb leaned forward resting his arms on the back of the seat. "Like when we use The Triad power."

"Only we haven't used any magic." Dean brought his eyes back to the winding road, tightening his grip on the wheel. They used Merlin's gift sparingly and with the greatest respect, treating it sort of like a nuclear weapons system. "Demons?"

"Possibly." Caleb rubbed his temple. "The vibe I got from the last vision was powerful, familiar even."

"Great." In their case a demon acquaintance was never a good thing. Dean was working hard to keep the focus he needed.

"If it's Triad power you sensed, then how could a demon be involved?" Ben said.

Dean looked up again, Ben's face barely visible in the darkened interior. Dean knew his oldest son was feeling guilty for encouraging the boys to go on the wilderness sojourn. He would have to set him straight when everyone was safe. The responsibility was misplaced, falling squarely on Dean's shoulders. Sam spared him an answer by launching into Scholar's mode.

"In theory a demon couldn't. Only a complete Triad has access." Sam turned in his seat so he could look at Ben. "This might not have anything to do with the Triad. Any powerful spell gives off an echo, a supernatural vibration that can be picked up by those sensitive to such things."

"Deuce shouldn't have picked up on anything non Triad related," Caleb said. "Whatever the hell we just felt was related to us."

"Maybe Max cast a spell? Asking for help?" Ben said. "He has a connection to all of you."

Dean hadn't considered Max using magic. To hear Josh tell it, crafting took intense study of chemistry and physics. Max wasn't exactly into studying at the moment and had yet to embrace his witch heritage. "Doubtful."

"Let's hope not," Sam said.

"Sammy?" Dean recognized the dark foreboding in his brother's tone. He slowed the Impala preparing to take the exit they would need.

"If Max cast a spell with James and JT…" Sam let the postulation hang heavy between them.

"That wouldn't do anything," Caleb picked up. "They don't even have their rings. Nothing is nowhere near official."

Dean took the turn, not liking where their conversation was leading. He eased the Chevy into a vacant spot. There were only a few cars in the makeshift lot at the late hour. The church bus, a renovated school bus, stood out with its colorful paint job and large block lettering. It was a newer vehicle, but Dean couldn't help to think of the hideous ratty van with the rainbow emblazoned on the side Pastor Jim had forced them to ride in on occasion.

"What are you guys talking about?" Ben was growing impatient. He was the first one out of the car, slamming his door behind him. "What does Max casting a spell and the boys having their rings have to do with JT being hurt?"

"Your uncle thinks that Max and your brothers might have accidentally tapped into some Triad power." Dean got out, pocketing his keys. He went around to the trunk, waiting for Sam and Caleb. It was one more thing he hadn't bothered to consider. Dean had been lulled by the long-running streak of good luck. "Right, Sammy?"

"In theory, it is a possibility." Sam came around to the back to gather his weapons of choice as Dean grabbed the sawed off shot gun and extra salt rounds. "It would explain the demon Caleb sensed. The three of them would stand out like a psychic beacon."

"You professors and your theories," Caleb snapped. He picked up his pack, grabbing extra holy water. "Come on, Runt. They're kids! They have no idea what they're doing."

"Neither did we the first time we used it," Sam replied. He took three lanterns from the back, turning them on before handing one to Dean, the other to Caleb. "Look where that got us."

"Used what?" Ben said. He was holding his medical bag in one hand, gun in the other.

"Triad mojo," Dean said.

"But Uncle Sam said…" Ben broke off, glancing to the silver ring on his finger back to his father. "There has to be a complete Triad."

"Yeah." Dean slammed the trunk. Sometimes looking at Ben was like looking in a mirror, seeing a hodgepodge version to haunt him from the past. Ben's green eyes narrowed and then widened as his sharp mind put the evidence together, drawing the correct conclusion. Dean wondered again at his father's strength as Caleb and Sam continued to bicker, oblivious to the impending explosion.

"But we knew our place," Caleb countered. He pointed a finger at Sam. "And we didn't exactly use it. We were trapped by it."

"Our positions weren't official." Sam propped his hands on his hips. "Mackland was The Triad at the time."

"How could you?" Ben stepped around Sam to come face to face with his father. "They're your family."

"Let's move out." Dean shouldered his pack, brushing past his son to start for the trail. There wasn't time to argue.

"They're kids!" Ben followed after him. Caleb and Sam must have caught on that they had inadvertently let the cat out of the bag because they were suddenly quiet, keeping a safe distance between father and son.

"Now's not the time, Ben." He kept his voice soft, an even keel he remembered Jim using. Dean still felt hypocritical, remembering his own father brushing aside his concerns. He'd sworn to be different, took pride in the relationship he had with all three of his boys. Dean tried now to take comfort in the fact he wasn't screaming at his son, reaming him a new one for questioning his decision.

"There is no good time to talk about making your sons targets for every supernatural crazy!"

"I've never forced them to hunt." Dean cut his eyes to Ben. He was by Dean's side, matching his stride. They rarely argued minus the typical stuff fathers and sons go at one another for during the teen years. There had been some late curfews, a case of sneaking a girl in when Ben thought he had the place to himself. The worst of it was an incident with a speeding ticket, some beer and a nickel bag of weed. It was a good thing the sheriff's deputy was a hunter and made it all disappear. Dean still believed it was Logan's stash, but Ben had taken the fall and accepted the punishment without much more than a grumble. "They had the same choice as you, Ace."

"Hunting and being marked as the future Triad are two entirely different things," Ben said. "God. I can't believe I didn't see it before. I've read the history. I know what happened to you three. You hated you didn't know what Pastor Jim had planned, that you had this huge responsibility thrust upon you, a destiny you felt beholden to fulfill."

Dean tossed a glower over his shoulder. Sam glanced away. He recognized his brother's dramatic words. "Things aren't as simple as they seem. It isn't like picking a fantasy league team. The Guardian isn't the only one in play." The Lady of the Lake had her say. She visited Dean in dreams along with Guardians from the past. He assumed Pastor Jim had experienced the same thing. Then there was James's psychic ability. The revelation wasn't as much a surprise but a confirmation as such.

"So they helped." Ben gestured a hand to include Sam and Caleb as conspirators. "I hope sharing blame eases all your consciences if my brother dies."

"Hey!" Dean stopped. He reached out with his free hand, snatched Ben by the shirt front, and jerked his son to an abrupt halt. He gave him a hard shake. "Watch your mouth."

"Deuce," Caleb said.

"Stay out of this, Damien," Dean growled. He turned his attention back to Ben. "JT is not going to die. We're bringing them all home safe. Don't ever say anything like that again. Do you understand me?"

Ben nodded. "Yes, Sir."

Dean let him go. "As for them being the next Triad, they are our first choice, but we have a second string in place. I promise you when it's time; it will come down to what they want."

"What they want?" Ben ran a hand over his mouth. "Max wants to move to California and surf, JT wants to take pictures for _Time_ and play for the Red Sox. Jimmy wants a freaking girlfriend or make that _three or four_ girlfriends. But at the end of the day they all want to make you proud, Dad. That's what we all want. Don't fool yourself. There is no choice, never has been."

"We're done talking about this. Don't say another word about it." Dean didn't want to see the truth. He only wanted his family safe. Memories of his father tugged at him. He reached out and poked his finger in Ben's chest. "This is a hunt, not a debate. Get your head in the fucking game and keep it there."

Ben blinked, but didn't move as Dean turned to start hiking again. Dean heard the steps beside him, didn't need to turn to know it was Sam by his side. "Dean?"

"There's definitely something to be said for John Winchester's parenting style after all. Huh, Sammy?"

"You're nothing like Dad," Sam said, quietly.

Dean caught Damien's familiar voice floating from behind them as he tried to reassure Ben. The words were lost, but Dean didn't need to hear them. He remembered Caleb's speeches, having repeated them for Sam until he knew them by heart. For the first time in many years, it had Dean feeling every part his father's son. He turned to Sam. He might not have willingly put his sons in danger, but he was guilty just the same. "Look where that got me."

To be continued…


	10. The Decisive Moment Part 2

The Decisive Moment

Part 2

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Funny how I had imagined this being a one shot like the rest of the fluff. Turns out I had a lot to say to finish things up. There is only one more part to go, and it is a long one. Thank you to those who reviewed, and or marked this story as a fav. They are always nice reminders that there are readers out there.

RCJ

"Why won't he wake up?"

"I don't know." Max held back from pointing out James sounded just like the thing he always claiming not to be- a little kid. It didn't help he was looking up at Max, his dark eyes wide and frightened. He had reason to be afraid, but it was still getting on Max's nerves.

"He should have moved…or something. " James ran his hand over JT's hair. "This is bad, Max. Really bad."

"We need a first aid kit." Max didn't need James stating the obvious, reminding him how far up the creek without a paddle they were. One look at JT was reality enough. He glanced at the younger teen. JT usually gave James something to do, a task he could focus on. "Where's JT's pack? He'll have supplies."

"I don't know. He must have dropped it." James kept his eyes on JT.

"See if you can find it." Max pressed his butchered shirt to JT's head, frowning when his friend didn't flinch. Max had quickly found the source of most the blood, a nasty gash that ran a three-inch length of JT's hairline. It was deep and disturbing. There was a smaller cut on his friend's right cheek where his face was red and starting to swell. Max was worried about the injuries he couldn't see. JT had hit the tree hard. Bits and pieces of Newton's Law of Physics floated through Max's head, along with the first aid drills he'd memorized.

"Damn it!"

"What?" Max looked up at James's explicative.

"Our luck sucks!" James pointed.

Max followed his line of sight. JT's day pack was illuminated by one of their dropped flashlights. It was about fifty feet from them, far outside the perimeter of the protection circle. "Wonderful."

"I could go get it." James moved closer to the circle's edge.

"No!" Max shook his head. JT would never forgive him. "That thing zeroed in on you. It could be waiting."

"We need supplies," James said. "So unless you've learned a spell to levitate, I don't see a choice here."

"Shit." Max growled. He knew enough to know he couldn't leave the circle without breaking the blood binding spell. There was so much more he should have known about magic, could have known if only he'd taken the time to pay attention. "We'll have to improvise."

"How?" James stomped toward him. "You going to pull a medical kit from your boot now? Because I've got nothing."

Max took a steadying breath, trying to remember all the reasons why he couldn't pummel James. "The protection circle is all we have going for us." Max was unprepared, weaponless except for his knife, and he felt guilty for failing them. He had gone up against angry spirits before, but never without expert back up, and never with a defenseless JT and James factored in. During the Abe Lundy deal, Dean told Max it was impossible to keep those you loved from getting hurt. Sometimes you had to be there to pick up the pieces, but Max wasn't sure where to begin.

"How could I forget?" James kneeled on the other side of JT, touching his brother's wrist. "The great wizard, Maxim Sawyer has saved us. What's a couple of pints of blood and some brain matter?"

"Shut up." Max's patience was thin. "This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't taken off those crystals."

James looked as if Max had reached out and cuffed him. His brown eyes locked with Max's blue gaze and Max couldn't ignore the tears that welled. Sometimes it was way too easy to forget James was a kid. He opened his mouth, fish like, but no typical smart ass reply popped out. The weight of what he'd done had Max scrambling to say something to take it all back. "I didn't mean that, Jimmy. I'm just worried about JT."

"No. You're right. This is my fault." James moved his hand to JT's chest. His voice cracked. "I didn't want Holly to think I was some kind of freak. JT had to be his stupid self and try to protect me and now he's going to die."

"JT is not going to die!" Max had been thinking the exact damn thing. Sometimes he worried his and James's minds were wired the same way. They needed JT around to soften their fatalistic streak. JT always saw possibilities, the potential in bleak situations and hopeless people. Max sometimes thought it explained why their friendship had lasted so long. "I should have picked up on the spade sooner. I'm the oldest, the one with the most experience hunting."

"Make up your mind." James quickly swiped at his eyes. "Either I'm to blame or I'm not."

"Your idiot brother was the one who just had to have that shot." Max refocused on JT, checking the bandage with hopes the bleeding had stopped. Their luck was still shot. It had not. He replaced his shirt and added more pressure.

"So this is all JT's fault?"

"That's always my story." It was never true. Max chased trouble, dragging JT along for the ride. JT couldn't resist trying to do the right thing, even if it was the thankless job of saving Max from himself.

"Blaming the injured guy? That's low, even for you, Sawyer."

Max flashed him a smile, hoping to ease some of the tension. "Right up there with using my awesome body to catch your girl's eye."

"I knew you weren't being chivalrous." James snorted. He didn't look quite as scared. "You're an ass."

"I'm definitely no knight in shining armor." That was more JT's gig, one that Max was going to make sure he had a chance to continue. JT's low moan saved Max from James's reply. They both turned their full attention to the injured teen. JT muttered something unrecognizable. His face twisted in pain before his eyes blinked and then opened.

"JT?" James bent closer to his brother. "Can you hear me?"

"Jimmy?"

"Yeah. I'm here. Max, too."

Max let out a breath when JT moved his head to look at him, arms and legs shifting slightly as he struggled to get his bearings. If he was moving on his own, there was less of a chance of any back or neck injuries. "Dude, you scared the shit out of us."

"What…happened?" JT's eyes fluttered, seemingly with herculean effort for him to keep them from closing. "You guys okay?"

"We're fine," Max said. "You and James's friendly ghost went a couple of rounds."

"You looked promising at first, Bro," James added, gently. "But Zombie Hiker definitely won."

JT lifted his left arm to shove Max's hand away. "M'head hurts."

"Yeah. I bet it does." Max eased up on the pressure, but didn't move the bandage. "Make an extra effort to clot and I'll stop."

"Are you okay?" James guided his brother's arm down, taking his hand in his. "You wouldn't wake up."

"I don't know."

JT's honesty was usually reassuring, but now Max only felt unsettled. Max had done a cursory scan. No bones were protruding. That was a good thing. "Does anything feel broken?"

JT licked his lips. "My camera?"

Max and James shared a look. "What?"

JT's eyes snapped open and he struggled to raise himself up. "My camera broken?"

"Are you kidding me?" James repositioned his hand on his brother's chest, keeping him from moving around. "You were tossed against a tree, you moron. You checked out on us and you're bleeding. I could give a shit about your camera, JT."

Max hadn't noticed the camera was missing. He scanned the area around them, figuring the strap must have snapped. Max didn't see the Nikon and feared what kind of shape it might be in. It was a gift from Ben. JT treated it like a member of the family. Max couldn't look at the stupid thing without being hit with a collage of mental snapshots, all memories shared with his best friend. The idea of it busted and broken, unable to magically capture any more moments had him caught up in JT's anthropomorphic concern.

"Max."

James's voice forced Max to take a deep breath, stopping his runaway alarm before it snowballed. He had to keep it together. As long as JT was awake and breathing, the worst wouldn't happen. "I promise we'll find it, J, but we need to know you're okay."

The vow had JT turning his head toward him with a grimace. "My chest and left side hurts," he admitted. "It's hard to breathe."

"Stay still." Max figured bruised or broken ribs. He'd had both, once from Lacrosse and another time when he and James decided to ride Icarus, Ben's horse, double and bareback. As injuries go they sucked, but weren't usually life threatening. All the organs underneath were cause for concern. "Take short, shallow breaths."

JT nodded slightly. "Easy for you to say."

Max smiled at the more typical JT reply. "How about your head? How bad?"

"Bad." The moment of levity disappeared with JT's groan. "I'm dizzy…feel sick. There are _two _of you."

"Two of Max," James said. "No wonder you feel sick."

"Hey. It's every girl's dream, but not a good sign for JT." Max swallowed hard. He didn't need to look at James to know the younger teen was thinking the same thing. Concussion, maybe worse considering JT's nose was still bleeding. He kept the light tone, mimicking what he'd experienced with his uncles and father when one of them had been hurt and they were forced into crisis mode. It was a lot easier to make jokes when the adults were around. "Thank God for the Winchester reinforced steel."

"Right." Jimmy played along, forcing a laugh. "Uncle Sam says Ben should do some kind of medical study on us, write about it in a journal like Grandpa Mac."

"We need Ben." JT's breath caught. "And Dad."

Max sighed. "That could be a problem."

"Why?" The look on JT's face was guilt inducing. Max had never wanted Ben and Dean more.

"We're trapped here," James supplied. "Max did a spell."

"You used magic?"

"I didn't exactly have a choice." If JT hadn't been in jeopardy, the reprimand in his voice would have been annoying. "It's kept that thing away from Jimmy, but we can't leave the circle without breaking the blood binding."

JT squeezed his eyes shut, his breath in short harsh pants. "Good thing my pack has some stuff…"

"It's on the outside," Max said. He felt like an idiot for going off half-cocked. His father was always telling him to think things through. Magic was to be respected, used with a cool head. JT had been the only one to bring supplies. He and James tended to depend on the Eagle Scout. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." JT looked at Max. "We'll just wait."

"That's not a good idea," James said. "You're still bleeding."

"I'm not going anywhere, Jimmy."

"That's uncertain."

Max jerked at the unfamiliar and unexpected voice. James turned, both of them facing the stranger on the other side of the silver circle.

"He looks rather grave to me."

"Who are you?" Max stood, taking the spade with him.

The man inched closer to the circle, smiling when the silver light brightened, hummed at his approach. "I'm Malachi Harris."

The name was familiar. Max shouldn't have cared; should have been completely relieved to see another person on the trail, someone to bring help for JT. Something about the way the man was smiling, seemingly unsurprised to encounter three teens in a weird glowing circle out alone in the middle of the night wasn't right. Max picked up the spade holding it in front of him. "Stay where you are, Dude."

"Max…" JT's tone was wary.

Max glanced back. "It's okay. I got this." Something was definitely off and Max had made enough mistakes tonight. He kept his eye on the newcomer, who lifted his hands in a gesture of peace and gave Max another winning smile.

"It's okay. I'm quite harmless."

Max looked the guy up and down. He was definitely out of place, older, maybe in his late twenties. His hair was blond, slicked back like a model from a men's cologne commercial. The clothes were all wrong for the woods, dress shirt and slacks, making the guy look like he'd taken a major wrong turn while out for his daily soy latte.

"Max, I think he's dead."

"Another freaking spirit?" James's unique insight was not what Max had expected. He turned to look at the younger teens, both staring intently at Malachi. Max wasn't the only one spooked. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Jimmy?" JT shifted on the ground, trying to get up. He'd made it to his knees, his left arm held snugly across his midsection.

"Don't." Max moved closer to the younger boys, keeping himself between them and Harris incase the silver protection circle failed them. The night was getting worse by the minute, spinning completely out of his control. He cut his gaze to Jimmy. "Is this dude dead or not, Great Ghost Whisperer?"

"I don't know." James shook his head. "He's different, but the same."

"You're a necromancer?" Harris seemed way too pleased. He clapped his hands. "Death's chosen. How splendid."

"He is not a necromancer." Max took a threatening step towards the circle's edge. He didn't like the fact the man new supernatural lingo. James's psychic abilities were new, a curve ball. It didn't change the way Max felt about the younger boy. Uncle Caleb, Sam, and Grandpa Mac were all psychic. The new facet only made Max more aware of James's vulnerability and his need to be extra vigilant to protect him. "

"Stop talking to him, Max," JT said.

Max glowered at his friend. "It's not like walking the other way and ignoring him is an option here.

"I understand your concern, Maxim. Necromancy has a rather negative connation."

"How do you know my name?"

Harris ignored Max's question, continuing to address James. "I assure you I've known my share of hunters who have coveted such a gift, myself included. It will serve you well in our profession."

"You're a hunter?" Max tried to block James and JT from view, feeling JT's penetrating gaze willing him to shut up. He straightened his shoulders, determined to show no fear. He hadn't had much exposure to other hunters. Elijah and Ethan Mathews didn't really count because they were like extended family. Riley and Bradley were around a lot and Uncle Caleb had even let him work a poltergeist gig with them. But as for the general ranks, he was clueless. "A _ghost_ hunter. That's a bit of an oxy-moron isn't it?"

"I'm not technically dead." Harris tilted his head, running his hand down the length of his chest. "It's my suit that James senses. It's been expired for quite some time, but I can't seem to let it go. The ladies do love this face."

"You're not human." James looked at Max. "I'm not sure how I know, but I do. He's something else."

"You're right." Malachi smiled at James. "I'm something much, much more."

Max stepped back. "Something more than human always spells trouble."

"It saddens me how prejudice is passed from one generation to the next. Demons aren't all bad, just look at your Uncle Caleb."

"Uncle Caleb isn't a demon!" James jumped up, taking a brash step forward.

"You're a demon?" JT made it to his feet despite Max's objections.

They had bigger problems than JT's stubbornness. A demon was not what Max expected, everything he secretly feared. Demons were taboo, a sore subject in their family all the way around and not just because of Uncle Caleb's lineage. Max suspected there was a bigger story, one they hadn't been privy to. He turned to glare at James. "You are never taking those crystals off again," he hissed.

"I didn't know I was on demon radar!" James was struggling to keep JT upright, both of them swaying.

"Guys," JT groaned, his hand reaching out to grab the back of Max's shirt. "Calm down."

"Necromancers are attractive but it wasn't his abilities that called to me." Malachi's gaze flicked from JT to James and then to Max. "It was your magic that brought me here, young witch."

Thoughts raced through Max's mind. He was a witch when it was convenient and even then he wasn't a very knowledgeable one at that. Max didn't know any spells to counter something as powerful as a demon, wasn't completely sure the magic he had used thus far would keep them safe. He hadn't really read his father's journal carefully.

"The same magic that will destroy you if you don't leave now." JT's voice was soft, but determined. Max admired the bravado, but wasn't surprised when Harris laughed.

"I'm surprised at you, Jonathan Winchester," Malachi chided. "A relationship built on lies is never on strong foundation. We both know your buddy Maxim is no Harry Potter."

"Then why are you here?" Max demanded. He might have been well aware of his limitations but having them flaunted by demon kind was another story entirely.

"Because The Triad power is hard to ignore. I'm not the only one to notice. Others will come. You're in more danger than you imagine."

Max took a wider stance, a tighter grip on the spade. He felt JT's hold on his shirt increase in response. "Then I should send you back to where you came from. Make you an example for them all."

It was a bigger boast than JT's attempt, way over the top. Max was never very good at knowing when to stop talking. The demon didn't laugh, but raised a brow in challenge. Max didn't blink and when Harris suddenly turned, a purposeful stride taking him in the direction of the darkened woods Max allowed himself a moment to believe they had finally caught a lucky break, but then Harris stopped.

"Now, now." He scooped up JT's day pack, turning once more to face them. "I wouldn't do anything in haste. JT is still bleeding and his breathing doesn't sound so great. Humans tend to need things like blood and oxygen."

"Max…" JT coughed. "Don't even think about it."

Max ignored the warning in JT's shaky voice, stepping to the boundary of the circle. JT feared the repercussions of another sucky plan, but Max was more afraid of the consequences of his inaction. They needed the supplies if they were going to be stuck through the night. "What do you really want, Harris?"

"Maybe you should ask your father."

"You know my father?" Max faltered, his focus wavering.

"TheTriad, as well." Harris came closer.

"Malachi Harris is in Samuel Colt's journal." JT spoke up suddenly with more strength than Max feared he could spare. Max flashed him a look, glancing to James who nodded.

"He's right. I remember now, too."

"You don't say?" Max was still sifting through his mind, drawing a blank on the details. James was quick to help him out.

"He was an Advisor," Jimmy said. "A traitor to his Triad. He ambushed and murdered his own Knight and Guardian. Samuel Colt took care of him."

They all were well-versed in Brotherhood history. James had a passion for it, the gorier the story the better. Juliet liked to joke that Grandpa Mac used the journals in The Tomb to teach James to read before he turned three.

"That explains how he ended up in Hell." Max's stomach twisted as the added information had him remembering the infamous account for himself. There was no more sacred trust than that between a Triad, the Advisor holding a privileged post. "But not what he's doing here."

"Smart boy." Malachi was nonplussed by James's revelation. "Would it help to say that I've been redeemed?"

"There is no redemption for that," JT said, weakly.

"People in glass houses…" Malachi came closer, dangling the bag like a carrot. "You'd be surprised at what those closest to you have had forgiven." He shrugged. "I have made my fair share of mistakes. I want things to be different for us." Malachi didn't wait for Max's reply. He tossed the backpack across the silver barrier, retreating several paces. "I would like for us to trust one another."

"That's not going to happen. You need to leave." JT twisted his hand into Max's shirt.

"I see The Triad has been rather selective in the tales they've shared. Revisionist history runs amuck as you three are obviously inadequately prepared."

"We're fine," Max said. "Get the hell out of here."

Malachi bowed his head. "As you like, but rest assured I'll be watching you."

"Great." Max blinked and the demon was gone. He turned to his friends. "Are we supposed to be comforted?"

JT replied by collapsing. Max and James managed to catch him before he hit the ground, easing him the rest of the way down.

"Hey!" James patted his brother's cheek. "Stay awake."

JT blinked owlishly. He drew one arm across his ribs as the other reached for his head. "I'm… awake."

"I told you not to move." Max caught his hand, holding onto it to keep his friend from touching the wound. The gash near his hairline was still bleeding; JT's face ghastly white beneath the red. He found the bandage he'd used before, placing it over the wound and applied pressure. JT flinched, trying to evade his heavy touch. "You never listen," he said softly.

"Pot meet Kettle." JT stopped squirming. He took a hitching breath, latching onto Max's hand instead of pulling away. "You talk way too much, man."

"I've been saying that for years," James added. He'd unzipped JT's pack, using their only flashlight to dig inside. "No one ever listens to me."

"Still doesn't stop you from trying." Max eyed the bag. "I need something to stop the bleeding."

"Super Glue," JT said.

There were three doctors in their family and the best they could do was Super Glue? Max snorted. "Works for model air planes."

"Number one recommended by Vietnam medics." James said. He continued to dig through the bag, tossing out two books in his haste. "Old school boxers and football players, too."

Max shook his head, sharing a quick look with JT.

JT attempted a smile. "Don't say it."

Max ignored the opportunity to point out how random and strange James could be, focusing on the books instead. One was The Scout Manual; Max had teased JT about it earlier. He picked up the other, squinting at the cover. "The Zombie Survival Guide? Dude?"

"Uncle Sam said the information is pretty accurate," JT said.

"Sometimes you surprise me." Max tossed the book aside, watching anxiously as James continued to rifle the supplies. "Like that load of bull you spewed with Harris. That was a pretty good bluff you tried to pull off, Eagle Scout."

"I almost believed you," James said. He found the small first aid kit, dropping it by Max before digging in again. "If I hadn't known how completely inept Max is I would have totally fallen for it."

"Why haven't you tried out that game while we've been in the hot seat?" Unlike James, JT could be trusted with a secret. Money wasn't a persuading factor with him, but there had been plenty of times when JT could have spared them punishment if he'd just twisted the truth.

"If I'm going to lie, it's going to be for a good reason." JT licked his lips. "That way it's believable."

"Girls are a good reason." Max released JT's hand, opening the kit, finding the contents fine for run of the mill stuff, but not equipped for ghost battling. The Super Glue would have to do. "So is ditching school."

"Says you," JT said. "I like school."

Max looked up at the slurred words. JT's eyes had slipped closed. "J?"

"Just resting," JT replied.

James finally fished out the Super Glue. "Found it."

Max took the tube thankful to have something productive to do. "No sleeping on a gig, Dude."

"Not really a job," JT said.

"Ten to one, we'll still get in trouble." Max lifted the bandage, using it to wipe away as much of the blood as possible. "The whole 'we didn't mean it' thing only works for the girls."

"You know whether we did it on purpose or not, this is like our first real hunt together." James moved closer to JT as Max started on closing the wound.

"Not counting the one to the twenty-year town when we got busted." Max ignored JT's hiss of pain as he pinched the jagged sides together. "That one got shut down early thanks to Jimmy."

"We got a good movie out of the deal." James laid his hand on JT's shoulder. "You know they say Super Glue actually decreases the chance for scarring."

Max rolled his eyes at the quick redirect. Sparing his friend's boyish good looks was the farthest thing from his mind, stopping the bleeding his only priority. "JT could use some roughing up."

"I could use a doctor." JT exhaled.

"I know, man." Max spread a generous amount of glue over the wound. He didn't want to think about the issue of the damage they couldn't temporarily fix. JT was not one to complain, was more likely to brush off an injury than to call attention to it.

James was worried too. "What are we going to do?"

Max didn't have an answer for the younger teen. The options were non-existent. "We wait it out. There is no other choice."

"There's always another choice," JT said.

Max took his hands away from the gash, thankful when the seal held. Blood loss was one less thing they had to worry about. "Not this time, J."

"At the first hint of dawn…" JT pulled in a ragged breath. He gripped Max's shirt. "You two have to go."

"We're not leaving you alone," James said.

"If it comes to that I'll stay here, and the kid can go." Max didn't think the spirit would be such a threat in the light of day.

"No. Not with that demon…" JT shook his head. "You have to protect him."

"Who's going to protect you?" James snapped. "We leave and Max's spell is broken."

"No spell is going to help me." JT closed his eyes again, his breathing more labored.

"Stop arguing with him, James." Max didn't want to leave JT, but to save his life he might have to take the chance. "If we run, we can be back in no time."

"We don't even know the way!" James pointed out. "What if we get lost?"

"We'll take JT's MacGyver watch. It has the co-ordinates and a compass." Max's father was always picking up cutting edge technology from his friend Adam. JT was a willing participant in Dad's gadget love fest and often a willing test subject.

"I'm not doing it," James said.

"You'll do what I say," Max ordered. On a good day he could admire James's cockiness, took his fair share of blame for some it, but today was not a good day. "Like you pointed out, this has become a hunt and I'm senior hunter."

"You're seriously pulling rank? You don't have a ring."

"Seriously." Max clenched his fists. "I don't need a ring."

James knew he was backed into a corner, and looked to JT for some leeway. Only JT was offering no reprieve today. His eyes were closed again. When James touched him he didn't move. "JT?"

Max pressed his fingers against JT's throat. "He's out cold."

"How much time do you think we have?"

Max had no idea. "It depends on what's wrong with him."

"What if we're too late?"

"Don't even go there." Max sat back on the ground, pulling his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. "He'll be fine."

It was the mantra Max repeated as the minutes crept by. He kept his eyes on James, who vacillated from watching JT to searching the darkened woods around them. When his face suddenly shifted from totally terrified to puzzled, Max was quick to catch on. "What?"

"I don't know." James rubbed his head. "I felt something."

Max felt something too. It was called helplessness. It was new. He got to his knees, his hand hovering over JT's chest. "Something as in things are about to get even worse?"

"No." James slowly got to his feet. "Something else."

Max was about to tell the teen this was no time to be obtuse when he saw it: a light, several lights. Maybe Pastor Logan was more with it than Max had thought. "A rescue party?"

"Even better." James turned to him, a tentative smile in place. "It's a hunting party."

RCJ

To be continued…

A/N: Just a little note. Malachi Harris showing up much like he did in our season finale was not merely convenient. There is a reason behind it. We try not to do things randomly if we can help it.


	11. The Decisive Moment Part 3

The Decisive Moment

Part 3

Beta: Tidia

A/N: The summer of the fluff comes to an end, just in time for Labor Day and back to school here in the US. Tidia can testify I am terrible at endings. Thanks to her for putting up with my picking, and more picking, and the 'what am I missing'? I really want to thank those of you out there in reader land that took a chance on this series, enduring the endless fluff and especially to those who wrote to let me know what you thought. I tried to fit in some of the requests in this one, and I hope I got to everyone. Again, thank you to Tara who did a read through and couldn't find that elusive thing I swore was missing.

RCJ

"Josh, Max is okay. Really. He and James are grabbing some breakfast with Sam. They're both shaken up, worried about JT, but physically they're fine." Dean pressed the phone closer to his ear, leaning against the wall of the quiet alcove he'd ducked into. He was tired, the relentless drum solo taking place behind his eyes making it hard to focus on the conversation at hand. Sam had called Joshua as soon as they found the boys, explaining the situation they had with the promise of keeping The Advisor informed as he made his way back from Los Angeles.

"JT's hanging in there." The trip off the mountain sucked. Their journey to a spot where the medivac could reach them was painstakingly slow. JT hadn't regained consciousness. Dean tried not to remember the sensation of stepping into the clearing, finding his sons and Max. The glow of the silver protection circle illuminating the blood covering them, reflecting the desperation in their eyes. JT lay lifeless in the center of it all.

"Yeah." Dean shoved the thoughts away, concentrating on Joshua's questions. He slid a shaky hand through his hair. "Moderate concussion, some fractured ribs, and internal bleeding from a ruptured spleen."

Doctor Patel had listed JT's injuries to Dean and Juliet. Ben had pretty much given the same diagnosis on the mountain, but hearing them confirmed by a stranger in the brightly lit, overly decorated consultation room had seemed grimmer. Juliet's attempt at a brave, calm, collected front had not helped. If Joshua noticed the slight tremor in Dean's voice he didn't let on. "They took him down to surgery about an hour ago. It could be a while."

Ben was staked out in the waiting room with Juliet. Dean left Caleb with them, using the obligatory phone calls as a legitimate excuse for escape. He needed to know JT was going to be alright before he could face his oldest son or JT's mother. Dean banged his head against the wall, listening as Joshua reminded him that they had all, at one time or another, been in similar case scenarios. But that was _them_, not one of Dean's children.

He cleared his throat, trying to focus on the positive. "Ben thinks they should be able correct the bleeding, hopefully spare his spleen."

Despite being a resident at Johns Hopkins, his oldest son had not been allowed in the surgical suite as he had hoped. Ben had tried to persuade them otherwise in a tone reminiscent of Doctor Mackland Ames, asserting that technically JT was his patient. The chief of staff gently put him in his place by pointing out being JT's brother negated customary courtesy.

"I know I should listen to him, man." Dean nodded even though Joshua couldn't see him. "The kid knows his stuff."

Dean sensed another's presence, lifting his head to find Caleb entering the darkened hallway. He straightened from his slump against the wall, his heart picking up a notch.

"Sorry, Deuce." Caleb must have sensed his fear because he gave a quick shake of his head. "No news, yet."

Dean nodded, noting the two cups of coffee his friend was carrying. "I'm talking to Josh."

Caleb bridged the gap between them. "Tell him I said screw the layover. The Ames jet will be fueled and waiting for him in Dallas. It will bring him to Asheville and I'll pick him up."

"Did you get that?" Dean said. He took the coffee from Caleb as he listened to Josh repeat his itinerary. "Then we'll see you tonight. Tell Carolyn Sam will be home to get Mary as soon as JT's in the clear. He'll bring Max with him." Dean glanced at Caleb. "You too, Dude. Bye."

Caleb took a sip of his coffee. "I take it you didn't tell him about The Triad stuff?"

"There's nothing he can do about it." Dean put his phone in his pocket, shifting his gaze to Caleb. They would have to deal with the repercussions soon enough. Dean wasn't even sure what the repercussions were. "I thought you were holding down the fort?"

"Juliet sent me to keep an eye on you." Caleb gave him a half smile. "Sam is still distracting the boys. I think she was trying to get rid of me."

Dean and Caleb handled hospital rooms in similar fashion with lots of pacing and clock watching. Caleb had the added charm of his psychic abilities, which he used to keep tabs. "So what's the unofficial news?"

Caleb didn't even try to pretend he hadn't been connecting with his godson. "JT's okay. His link is strong."

Dean let out a breath, resting back against the wall. "Ben still in with Juliet?"

"Ace is glued to the seat by the nurse's station. He's not going anywhere."

Dean let his knees buckle, sliding down to sit on the floor. "Neither is JT."

"Right." Caleb joined him on the cold linoleum, their shoulders brushing. "Winchesters come from tough stock."

"Good thing." Dean wrapped his fingers around the Styrofoam cup, soaking in the warmth. "Because we fucked up, Damien."

"I know." Caleb's voice was quiet.

"I can remember the exact moment we made our mistake." Dean leaned his head back, staring at the tiled ceiling.

"The harpy hunt with Ben when you were hurt." Caleb finished Dean's thought. "I'll never forget the look on the kid's face."

"Ben's or JT's?"

"Choose your poison." Caleb snorted. "They were equally horrible."

"They thought I was going to die." Dean recalled his family's fear with perfect clarity. Ben had already lost one parent. JT was just as unwilling to give up any of his family. Then there was Dean's own fear to contend with. Watching that harpy go after Ben had shifted Dean's perspective in a way he never expected. "They followed me around for weeks after that, had nightmares. Even Jimmy picked up on it."

"It was the quietness that rattled me." Caleb rubbed his eyes. "I couldn't watch them go through what you and Sammy suffered. I backed off."

"I let you." It was easy caving because it kept everyone happy, giving the illusion of a guaranteed safety. Their ideas of training the boys changed from that day forward. Sam had agreed wholeheartedly. The three of them understood the dangers of hunting, the devastation of loss. They were vigilant in removing the random factor of chance with the problem being in hunting, random chance was always factor. Their best of intentions was coming back to bite them in the ass.

"We let everybody down." Caleb bit his lip. "Did you see them out there? Max blames himself for not protecting JT and Jimmy. I put that idea in his head. Johnny hounded me to keep you and Sam safe, made sure I knew it was my priority mission to do so, but at least the bastard had the decency to make sure I knew how to be The Knight."

"We didn't have the stomach for it." Dean sighed. "Dad drafted us, instead of letting us enlist in some weekend warrior hunting regimen."

"Is that what we've been doing?" Caleb asked. "Letting the boys play dress up hunter?"

"Obviously we haven't done the best job of introducing them to the real thing. I could have handled a poltergeist blindfolded by Jimmy's age, had bagged my first werewolf when I was younger than Max."

"Fuck." Caleb slammed his fist into the floor. "What the hell were we thinking?"

"We weren't thinking, Damien. We were reacting. Scrambling to keep them safe. Just like Dad back in the day."

Caleb looked at him. "But in a way completely _unlike_ your Dad."

"Exactly." Dean nodded. It made a sad kind of sense. Overcompensation rarely worked well. They should have found a happy medium. Like Mac was always saying. It was about balance.

"We were lucky they kept their wits about them and weren't killed," Caleb said. "Maybe we got something right."

"With Malachi showing up, they'll be in even more danger now." Dean knew things would have to change. The boys would have to be prepared on a new level. For that to happen he was going to have to let go of his fear, or at least make a truce with it.

"I am so fucking sorry, Deuce." Caleb's voice caught.

"Let's save our apologies for JT." Dean bumped his shoulder. Together with Sam and Caleb, Dean would figure it out. "We'll just have to do things differently."

RcJ

Sam watched his nephew pick at his food. He wasn't sure James had eaten any of the eggs, only shifting them on the plate so he appeared to be following orders. "You need to eat something, Jimmy."

"It's _James_."

The protest didn't hold any heat, but Sam was chagrined. He had a sudden image of himself at thirteen proclaiming to Dean and his father that 'Sammy' was no longer acceptable. He felt bad for Dean. "Sorry. You need to eat something, James."

The thirteen-year-old shifted his gaze from his barely touched breakfast to Max. The older teen had grudgingly finished off his BLT and home fries. He shoved his clean plate to the middle of the table. "Don't look at me, _Jimmy_. I did what I was told."

"Since when is eating ever a chore for you, _Dick Head,_" James said.

"Cut it out." Sam put down his coffee, studying the two teens before him. He'd already headed off two promising arguments before they could gain any steam. Max had Caleb's attitude, but Joshua's innate skill to needle someone without actually trying. James was prickly, and quick with a smart ass comeback. Put the two boys together and they could be explosive. Sam felt bad for JT. "Now is not the time to be fighting with each other."

James rolled his eyes. "It's not really a great time to be enjoying a big breakfast either."

Sam raised a brow, giving James his perfected Scholar look. The beginning of the adolescent years had definitely set in. Ben and JT had not left much of an impression, their easygoing personalities unaffected by the surge of hormones. James was another story, one Dean liked to point out was eerily similar to what he had endured with Sam. "Watch the attitude."

James sat straighter, giving a contrite nod. "Sorry, Sir."

"It's okay." Sam sighed. The boys were well trained, respectful even when they didn't really want to be. It was one thing they had gotten right. He wished the same could be said for Mary and Josie. "I know how hard this is."

Max cleared his throat. "How much longer do you think it's going to take?"

"It depends on how extensive the damage is." Sam intended to be reassuring. Max's crestfallen face told him he was not. He felt the tug of both boys' emotions, their fear mirroring his own. Neither Max nor James understood loss, minus the pain of losing a beloved pet. Sam was too intimate with the concept. He endured a lot of hospital vigils through the years, each horrible for their own reasons. The one moment forever etched in Sam's memory and on an eternal replay when entering any hospital was finding his father collapsed, too far gone to be helped. The last minutes with his dad haunted Sam, crawling to the forefront of his mind with every visit to the ER. Sam wondered if JT knew how much he loved him.

"Shouldn't we be getting back?" James said. "Mom might need me."

"Your mom wanted you to take a break and eat. You guys have been up all night." Sam knew Juliet also wanted time to compose herself. James and Max were as bad as Dean when it came to being patient. "She'll be upset if you make yourself sick."

"She wanted rid of us," Max said. "Nobody wants kids around at a time like this."

"We're not kids." James was indignant.

"Says you, Brat."

"No one's trying to get you guys out of the way." Max could be dramatic, his stormy moods so reminiscent of Caleb. At times Sam felt ill-equipped to handle the older teen, deferring to The Knight or The Guardian. Maybe it was because Sam wasn't around so much when Max was a baby, in school and living in New York. "We're trying to watch out for you."

Max leaned back in his seat, his long legs bumping against the table. "I wish you'd been around earlier."

The teen's statement was wistful, full of regret. Sam's chest tightened in sympathy when he looked in Max's blue eyes, easily recognizing guilt. "You did the best you could, Max. Your spell made all the difference."

Max picked at the bandage across his hand. "I shouldn't have used The Triad symbol." He looked up at Sam. "It sent out some kind of signal. Right?"

Sam could feel James's gaze on him. They were asking for answers he didn't feel were his place to give. The Guardian would have to make that decision. He had been grateful when Dean pulled back on the training, keeping the boys' lives as normal as possible. Sam of all people should have known in their world normal didn't work. "That's something Dean should discuss."

"What does Malachi Harris have to do with us?"

"Malachi Harris is a demon." Sam leaned closer to Max, lowering his voice. Harris had disappeared before they arrived, unwilling to show himself in The Triad's presence. "Anything he said you should disregard. Demons can't be trusted. Ever."

Max met his gaze. "He said you all were keeping things from us, that we were inadequately prepared."

"Whatever we have or have not chosen to share with you has been for your own good." Sam would agree on the inadequately prepared, but that was completely the current Triad's fault.

"That means you've lied," James said. "What else is The Triad hiding from us?"

"What?" Sam noticed the lone occupant of the table nearest them stood up to throw away his trash. "We haven't been lying to you."

"Is it something like with my abilities?" James's petulant tone returned. "Because I would like to have known about those."

"To what end?" Sam found himself suddenly thrust on common ground. He questioned his own father's judgment, resented Caleb for a long time for not telling him. Sam had long since come to understand John Winchester's reasoning. Still, he felt the hypocrite. "Knowing about them would not have changed anything. It would have only caused you to worry."

"Not like I'm not worried now." James lifted the mojo bag from beneath his shirt, shaking it at Sam. "Spirits and demons have it out for me. Harris said it-necromancers are too enticing."

"You're not a necromancer," Max huffed.

"Spin it any way you want to, man. I'm a direct link between this word and dead man's land."

"Most spirits are not like the one you encountered tonight." Sam again tried for soothing. James's eyes filled, his face flushing red. Anger might have been his nephew's initial first reaction, but a deeper feeling lay at the heart of things. It was a feeling Sam could completely understand. He was twenty-two when his abilities came on line. James was still a kid. "They want connection, guidance."

"That doesn't change that my brother is in surgery." James let go of the bag. "I don't want to do this anymore. I want them gone. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me."

Max sat forward. "Dude, calm down."

"You feel the same way," James rounded on Max. "Don't deny it. I've heard you and JT talking. You don't want to be a witch. It's too freaking weird for you."

Sam was thankful for the cafeteria lull as the boys seemed not to care they were in a public arena. "Take it easy."

"No," James said. His voice was quieter; his brown eyes alight with intensity. "I want you to work with Adam and Joshua. I want them to find something to make my abilities go away forever."

"It doesn't work that way, Jim…James."

"Why not?"

Sam sighed. He liked James's questions better when he was four. Where does time fly to, Uncle Sam? What happens if you run over a ninja? And Sam's absolute favorite-where does Daddy keep all the dragons? Four-year-old James was under the assumption that Athewm and Belac were penned up in a barn somewhere. Sam missed that childlike faith and innocence, wasn't ready for the boys to lose it.

"Because you might be able to pretend who you are for a while, but you can't run from _what _you are forever."

James sniffed. "That sucks."

"It will get easier."

"If it doesn't get me or someone else killed."

"Learning to use what you've been given, treating it with respect instead of fear is the best way to prevent that."

"Uncle Caleb says fear is the path to the dark side." James toyed with the silver amulet around his neck.

Sam snorted. "Actually Yoda said that, but Caleb quotes Star Wars like your grandfather used to recite The Art of War."

"You don't use your abilities," Max said. When Sam turned his gaze on the blond teen, he shrugged. "I'm just saying."

Sam sighed. One of his favorite things about being The Scholar was recording and telling the story of The Brotherhood. The Triad had chosen to shield the boys from some of the grimmer tales. Sam knew part of that reason was because of the role he played. "I made a mistake with my abilities a long time ago. I let anger and revenge lead me down a path that led to a lot of people being hurt, including people I love."

"Like Darth Vader?" James asked.

"Yeah. Something like that." Sam was a different person now. He was a peace with his past, stronger and better for the errors he had made. "I can't go back and change any of that. Time only moves forward. Now when I _do_ use my abilities I do so with control, like your Grandpa Mac."

"What if I can't do that?"

"I did it." Sam reached out and squeezed James's shoulder. "I have great confidence that you will be a much better man than me, Young Jedi."

"I want to be just like you, Uncle Sam." James gave a dimpled smile. "Just not a lawyer, more like a business tycoon."

"Thanks." Sam grinned, catching Max's smirk out of the corner of his eye. "You're still going to finish your breakfast, Dude."

James's smile fell. "Do you promise to get me in to see JT, none of that kid crap?"

Sam propped his elbows on the table. "This really isn't a bargaining session."

"You always say anything can be negotiated," Max said.

Sam recognized when he was outnumbered. He nodded at James. "I promise you both will get into see JT."

James picked up the ketchup, dousing his eggs. "It's a deal."

Sam leaned back in his seat, shooting a quick look to Max. The teen shook his head. "JT says sometimes it's easier to let him think he won."

"That work for you?"

"Nope." Max watched James pick up his fork and begin to eat. "I usually just pound him."

"You wish," James said around a mouthful of eggs.

"I can demonstrate," Max said.

"That won't be necessary." Sam caught the teen's arm. "There's been enough bloodshed for one night."

He regretted his choice of words as both boys grew solemn. Max's eyes went to the clock again. "Did Ben say he would come get us?"

Sam looked at James, who had put down his fork. "How about we just go see if anyone needs us?"

"Sounds good to me." James wrapped his bacon in a napkin and grabbed his plastic container of milk. "Ben is probably hungry."

Sam thought of his oldest nephew, the way he'd looked as he monitored JT on their trip off the mountain. Ben and Dean hadn't spoken; the silence and thick tension between father and son uncharacteristic of them and all too familiar to Sam. He remembered how he and his dad let hunting destroy their relationship. Sam had to trust that his brother and nephew would be smarter.

RcJ*SnsnsnsN*RcJ

Ben stepped outside to a cloudless sky. The early September air was cool despite the bright sun. He shielded his eyes, scanning the quaint meditation garden. The Haywood Regional Medical Center wasn't John Hopkins, but it had a rare beauty nestled in the North Carolina Mountains. Ben had yet to find fault with the doctors, although he wasn't real happy with the Chief of Staff. The nurses were great, quick to bring updates and offer support. Ben learned early to respect the nursing staff. Nurse Rodriguez had been the one to tell him where to find Juliet.

She was standing near the rose bushes at the corner of the building where there were no windows. It was why Ben missed her when looking outside from the walkway connecting the hospital's two wings. She'd gone down to the coffee stand. Ben had promised Caleb he'd stay with her and after another check on JT's status, he'd come searching when she hadn't returned. She was alone, staring off at the mountain range in the distance.

"Juliet?"

"Jesus, Ben!" Juliet whirled around, one hand coming to her heart. In the other she held a cigarette, which she quickly dropped to the ground and stepped on.

"Sorry." He hadn't meant to startle her. "Are you smoking?"

"Am I smoking?" Juliet waved her hand in the air. "What? No."

"Yes, you were." Ben recognized her tactic. It was one JT used. Repeat whatever the person asked you as a distraction, or maybe it was more nervous reaction. JT and his mother were horrible liars.

"Don't be ridiculous." She left her foot covering the butt. "Has there been any word on JT?"

"No." Ben shook his head. "I'm surprised at you."

"Surprised by what?" She still feigned innocence, crossing her arms over her chest, hugging herself.

"You're a doctor." Ben had never seen Juliet smoke. She wasn't a health freak like Ben's mom had been, but she gave devout lectures to the boys on eating their vegetables and the evils of tobacco products. "You know how bad those are for you."

"I know." Juliet's bit her lower lip. "I only indulge during the highest of stress situations-a pack a year if that."

"That's counterintuitive," Ben said. "They raise your heart rate and…"

Juliet held up a hand to stop his lament. "I know, Doctor Winchester."

Ben noticed the crumpled tissue she was holding. His eyes went to her face. Her lashes glistened wet, and a faint trace of mascara smudged beneath her eyes. He had a sudden flash of her on his first day at the farm, very pregnant and serving him chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs. Along with the memory came a sharper image of a much younger JT. Ben cleared his throat. "You start during vet school?"

Juliet nodded. "Don't tell your Dad. Okay?"

"I won't," Ben promised. He wasn't talking to his dad so that would be easy. "Can I have one?"

Juliet snorted. "No way."

Ben slumped against the wall, the warmth of the bricks feeling good after such a long stint in the air-conditioned waiting room. He rubbed at his stiff neck, feeling the lack of sleep weighing on his system. "I was worried when you didn't come back."

Juliet leaned into the wall beside him. "I needed a little breather."

"It's going to be okay."

"My head knows that." Juliet sighed. "I just need to convince my heart. It's taking the brunt of all this."

"The heart isn't the easiest of organs to deal with, Doctor."

"I concur, Doctor."

Ben turned his head to give her a grin. "I'm only a lowly resident, but I would be glad to assist."

"I wish you could."

Ben leaned forward. "Is it a mom thing?"

"Yeah."

Ben swallowed, thinking of his own mother. He had been with her when she died. One minute he was holding her warm hand, the next the room felt suddenly empty and her skin grew cold. Ben was left alone, his life spiraling out of control. It was one of the reasons he pushed so hard to go into surgery with JT. Being there at least gave an illusion of power. "I think you're braver than she was."

"Your mom?" Juliet guessed.

"Yeah." He missed her, sometimes felt guilty when he realized how happy he was with his new family.

She gave a little frown. "Ben, why would you think that?"

"I think Mom was afraid of what Dad would bring into my life. I think she thought he was dangerous." Ben loved his father, but there was no denying the element of risk that came along with getting close to him. He couldn't help but wonder if his mom would have wanted such a life for her only son.

"Honey, I don't think your Mom really knew Dean. She was only doing what she thought was best for you."

"Do you think you're doing what's best for James and JT?" Ben was afraid she would be angry, but instead she only looked sad, which was worse.

"Did I ever tell you about the day I found out I was pregnant with JT?"

Ben shook his head. "Uncle Caleb told me the Jimmy story."

Juliet rolled her eyes. "Caleb only _listens_ to your father's side of things."

Ben smiled. "He _heard _you threatened to make Dad have a vasectomy."

"Do you want to hear about JT or not?"

"I want to hear about JT." Ben was around for all James's first, including his birth. JT was already this unique little person when Ben joined the family, completely welcoming and unconditionally loving in the way only little kids and dogs are. Ben was crazy about both his brothers, but his relationship with JT was different. He'd never been responsible for another person before, and no one had ever followed him around, attempting to mimic his every move. Ben had never been anyone's hero. "I bet you were excited."

"More like terrified." Juliet turned so her right shoulder was leaning against the wall, facing him. "I loved your father. We were together, happy with how things were going. I was centered on our day to day routine. Me, setting up the emergency animal clinic. Him, working to build up the garage. Normal couple stuff."

"Dad kept you out of the hunting part?"

"He never kept anything from me. You know how the farm can be. It's The Brotherhood Central Station. Your father is The Guardian. I couldn't ignore it completely, but I didn't ask questions." Juliet toyed with her silver necklace. "I knew when he was hunting. I tried not to focus on that aspect of his work. It was kind of like dating a fireman or police officer. In the back of my mind I knew what he did put him in constant jeopardy. The lesser details I knew the better."

"JT changed that," Ben said. He remembered his mother reminiscing about all the new facets to her life his birth brought. She said Ben made her want to be a better person, someone a son could be proud of.

"I knew from talking to Carolyn what bringing a child into The Brotherhood meant. It meant that you were bringing up a son to fight for a cause. She grew up in a hunting family and accepted that. I was still dealing with the whole idea of elves and fairies."

"What if he didn't want to be part of it? Was there ever really a choice?" That was the point of contention between him and his father at the moment. Once you were born into the family, could one really not become a hunter? Ben knew Max wanted to be a hunter, would be thrilled he was chosen to follow in the footsteps of not only Uncle Caleb, but Max's grandfather as well. James and JT felt the same kind of exhilaration. Ben had been in their shoes. He hadn't thought about it so much when it was just him to consider, his concentration narrowed when he realized the parts his brothers were to play.

"I already guessed your father and uncles would make The Brotherhood too enticing. What boy would not want to be a part of that? Just like generations of firemen and police officers. "Juliet smiled, letting her necklace drop. "I won't lie to you. I prayed for a girl. Twice."

"Do you regret it?"

"Being with your father? Becoming a mother?" Juliet shook her head. "Never."

"What about the hunting?"

"There are days when I hate it. Today, for instance." She ran a hand over her hair, releasing a heavy sigh. "But in general it's brought many more good things into my life than bad. You, for instance."

Ben frowned. "I'm not sure I'm following you."

Juliet arched a brow. "If your dad wasn't such an awesome hunter, we wouldn't be having this conversation now would we?"

Ben easily remembered his father saving him and the other children from the changeling. He had been in awe of Dean Winchester, grateful, and that was before he understood their true connection. "That's not fair," he said. "I'm trying to stay mad at him."

"Good luck with that, Sweetie." Juliet looked at her watch. "It's about time for an update. We should get back."

"Juliet?" He stopped her before she could start for the door. "Wait."

"Ben?"

"I'm glad you were brave and stayed with Dad, even more that you had JT and James." Juliet was a part of giving him a family. JT and James made Ben want to be a better person, the kind of person a brother would be proud of.

"Me, too." Juliet threaded her arm through his as they began to walk. "Are you sure _you_ haven't on occasion wished they were girls?"

"Are you kidding?" Ben snorted. "Josie and Mary do not need to be part of the future Triad to bring us to our knees."

"Wait." Juliet nearly stumbled. "Did you say Triad?"

Ben instantly recognized his mistake. Juliet didn't ask questions; therefore his father didn't have to lie. "Did I say Triad?" He quickly opened the door for her. "What? No."

She hesitated before going in. "I don't want to know, do I?"

Ben shook his head. "With your delicate heart condition, I'd recommend no."

"Okay. I'll rely on your judgment, Doctor." She reached out and squeezed his arm. "Maybe you should trust in your father's."

Ben ran a finger over the silver ring on his finger, recalling how proud he was the day his dad gave it to him. He looked at Juliet. "I concur, Doctor."

RcJ

Dean leaned against the hospital bed, staring down at his sleeping son. JT had been out of recovery in his own room for a few hours now. He'd woken up once, for a brief moment, but had not been coherent. The surgery had been a success, despite JT losing his spleen. Dr. Patel was confident he would make a complete recovery in time for cross country. Dean would not be at ease until JT was awake and talking.

JT's brief foray into consciousness and Dr. Patel's assurances were promising enough that Dean convinced Juliet it was safe for her to make a trip downstairs with Sam for coffee, and for Caleb to take the boys into downtown Asheville for some real food, something not charcoaled by the cafeteria . Seven o'clock was approaching, the room darkening with the fading September sun. They all needed a break, but it was suddenly too quiet with everyone gone. Dean needed to combat the silence with something besides JT's soft breathing and the typical background noise of hospital machinery.

"Looks like it's just you and me, Kiddo. What should we talk about?" Dean's adrenaline fed façade was starting to crumble. He searched the room for some distraction from JT's bruised and bandaged face. Max and James had left a deck of cards. Juliet's magazine and Sam's discarded newspaper were on the chair, but it was the paperback Caleb had been reading from that caught his eye.

He picked up the book, claiming the chair closest to JT. "The Zombie Survival Guide." Dean snorted, casting JT a quick glance. "Remind me to talk to your Uncle Sam about The Scholar's Required Reading Program."

Dean folded back the cover, smoothing his fingers over the well-worn first page. He read aloud. "This book is the key to survival against the hordes of undead who may be stalking you right now without you even knowing it. It is a book that can save your life."

Dean laughed. He wished a book contained those kinds of answers. Even the mythological Hunter's Handbook fell short of such wisdom. "If only that were true."

"I found some things helpful."

Dean turned at the sound of Ben's voice, surprised his oldest son had caught him off guard. Ben was standing in the doorway, looking as haggard as Dean was feeling. He'd refused to go with Caleb and the other boys, insisting instead to follow Dr. Patel on his rounds so he could no doubt pester the man with more questions about JT's condition. "I guess Sammy gave you a copy, too?"

"First Christmas I was at the farm." Ben crossed the room to check JT's IV. He glanced up at the various monitors before leaning against the rail of the bed. Ben pressed the back of his hand to JT's cheek then rested his fingers against his brother's wrist checking his watch. He glanced over his shoulder to Dean. "It came in a box set: _The Demon Hunter's Handbook_, _Shapeshifter Stories_ and _Witches and Woodland Creatures: What are they really like_?"

Dean ran a hand down his mouth as he watched Ben go through the same routine he'd already performed countless times before. He wondered if all his son's patients would get such attention to detail and care. "Sounds about right. Sammy has always had a thing for books."

Ben seeming satisfied with his findings. He pointed to the paperback. "One of my particular favorite jewels from that little treasure is 'use your head, cut off theirs'. I had a poster made for my dorm room."

Dean smirked. He appreciated his son's inherited sense of humor, especially after having been given the silent treatment. "If only it were that simple."

"Yeah, yeah, Brooks missed the part about staking them to their graves. He was obviously an amateur." Ben folded his arms over his chest. "What about 'blades don't need reloading'? That sounds just like something _you'd_ say."

"It's a valid point." Dean smiled slightly at his own little joke. "Especially if you're dealing with vampires. Crossbows are a bitch to ready."

Ben met his gaze. "I think I've come to realize the greatest wisdom in there."

"Oh yeah?" Dean looked down at the book, then back up at his son. "What's that, Ace?"

Ben licked his lips. "No place is safe, only safer."

"So maybe this book does have some redeeming value." Dean tossed the novel on the table, standing to move to Ben's side. He was grateful for conversation; happier Ben seemed willing to hear him out. He remembered having to come to terms with the idea his own father was fallible, merely human. Dean gripped the rails of the bed, staring down at JT. "I don't think your Grandpa John could have said it better."

"Uncle Caleb said he was really hard on you."

Dean lifted his gaze to Ben's. John had been hard on them all, hoping to prepare them for the fight. Dean had gone easier, hoping the fight was over. His son was paying the price. "For good reason it seems."

"That sucks."

"I know." It was the one thing Dean wanted to be different for his children. He reached out, running his fingers through JT's dark blond hair. Some of the strands were stiff and stained with blood. "Safety is a necessary lie humans sell themselves. Sometimes it comes at a high cost. Dad understood that."

"He didn't want his family to pay the price."

Dean turned to face Ben, finding no solace in his eldest's watery gaze. "Neither do I, Son. This can't happen again. Things are going to change."

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier," Ben's voice broke. "I was way out of line, Dad."

"They're your little brothers." Dean reached out and squeezed Ben's shoulder. "Believe me when I say I know where you're coming from. I'm proud of you for watching out for them."

"But…" Ben started.

Dean exhaled heavily, letting his hand drop. "But you can't protect them from their own decisions, from the lives they choose, or where Fate may lead." Dean had learned the hard way with Sam. He'd die for his brother, but he wouldn't live his life for him.

Ben rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Like Fate leading them straight to The Triad?"

"Odds are stacking in that favor."

"I may not like it, but I can understand why." Ben rested his hand on JT's leg. "He's got the heart of a Guardian. Just like his Dad."

"I appreciate that." Dean offered his son weary smile. "But I'm not planning on retiring for a while."

Ben snorted. "Uncle Caleb is set on you all beating the record as the longest running Triad. To hear him tell it, you'll traipse through enemy territory with walkers and portable oxygen tanks."

"Damien always has had a competitive streak." Dean knew his best friend had the purest of motivations. "He's already lived longer than most Knights. Just take a look at Riley's flow chart."

Ben looked at JT. "Are you going to tell them?"

"I'm going to tell them some things." Dean didn't look forward to discussing the war, their part in starting it. He wasn't sure where to begin. "Some history we've kept a little vague."

Ben nodded. "I want to be there, too."

"I wouldn't do it without you."

"I still want to be a hunter, you know," Ben said. "I want to back them up."

Dean lifted a brow. "They'll need a good Advisor." So far, The Lady of the Lake had offered little insight into that position. Maybe it was completely to the Guardian's discretion. In Dean's mind, Ben would be the perfect candidate. He'd thought of Adam's son, Ryden as a back-up. The kid was a couple of years younger than Ben, a powerful witch, and much to his father's dismay very interested in The Brotherhood.

"I'd do anything for James and JT. Max, too. But I don't think I want any part of that." Ben twisted the silver ring around his finger. He glanced up at Dean, giving him a half smile. "Besides, talk about nepotism, Dad."

"What?" Dean recognized the mirth for what it was-a peace offering. "I can't help that all my sons are awesome. It's in the Winchester genes."

Ben held out his hand. "Are we good then?"

Dean clasped Ben's forearm pulling him in for a hard hug. "Always, Ace."

"Dad?"

Dean let Ben go, reaching out to place his hand on JT's head. "Hey, Tiger. It's about time you woke up. "

"Dad…what's going on?" JT shifted in the bed.

"Easy," Dean said. "I'm here."

Ben moved around to the other side, pulling out his pen light. "Try not to move around just yet."

Dean gripped JT's hand, careful of the I.V. "It's okay, dude. You're safe now."

JT's face was fraught with confusion. He looked down at the IV in his arm and then up at his brother. "Ben?"

"Try to show a little respect when I'm at work." Ben carefully studied JT's eyes. "That's Dr. Winchester to you."

JT flinched, giving a little groan. "What are you doing?"

"I'm asking the questions," Ben said gently. "Can you tell me your name?"

"You know my name." JT tried to turn toward Dean. "Dad…"

"Humor your big brother." Dean ran his hand over JT's hair. "He's on a roll."

JT blinked, licking his lips. His voice was low and hoarse but had never sounded better to Dean's ears. "Jonathan Thomas Winchester."

"Good, JT." Ben flashed Dean a wide smile. "Do you know where you are?"

JT looked at Dean again, then past his shoulder to the sterile white walls and heavy curtains. "Hospital?"

"Yachtzee." Dean squeezed JT's hand. He glanced at Ben, glad to see the relief mirrored in his green eyes. "Looks like the infamous Winchester hard head wins again."

"More data for my journal article." Ben grinned, taking his stethoscope from around his neck, slipping it on, and placing the end against JT's chest. "Could you take a couple of breaths for me?"

"What happened?"

Ben cast a glance to his Dad then to JT. "What do you remember?"

Dean watched JT's brow wrinkle in concentration, the frown quickly morphing to an expression of terror. "Jimmy!" He tried to sit up, gasping as his injured body protested the jarring movement. "Dad, the spirit!"

"Hey, hey." Dean soothed, carefully gripping his son's shoulder to keep him on the bed. "Take it easy. Your brother's okay."

"There was a demon." JT gulped in a greedy breath of air. "Max? Where's Max?"

"Max is okay, too," Dean said, looking to Ben for some help. "Everybody's safe."

"Calm down, JT." Ben used the remote control clipped to the rail to slightly elevate the head of the bed. He readjusted the canula on JT's face, keeping his voice steady. "You've got some broken ribs and an incision. Slow, steady breaths. Okay?"

"Where…" JT stopped struggling, clenching his eyes shut as he tried to do as Ben said.

Dean eased his hold, keeping one hand on his son's shoulder. "They're with Caleb. They weren't hurt, Son. I wouldn't lie to you."

"They ditched you for some grub, little brother." Ben checked the IV in JT's arm. "James is probably scarfing his second dessert at some pricey place he conned Uncle Caleb into as we speak."

JT opened his eyes, his breathing easier. "Sounds…'bout right."

"You know it does. I bet you ten we don't even see a leftover box." Ben glanced at one of the overhead monitors. "Are you in pain?"

"Some," JT said, shifting his gaze to Dean. "Where's Mom?"

"She's downstairs getting some coffee. She'll be back soon."

"I'm going to go grab your doctor," Ben said. He nodded to Dean. "I'll let her and Uncle Sam know the patient is back with us."

"How long have I been here?" JT asked after Ben left.

Dean continued to run his fingers through JT's hair, hoping his effort was providing some kind of comfort. The connection made him feel better. "Since early this morning." Dean nodded toward the darkened window. "Day's nearly gone. You had us worried, Kiddo."

"I'm sorry."

Dean eased the rail down, taking a seat on the mattress by his son. "I don't think you were planning on scaring up a hunt."

"I didn't check to see if Jimmy had his crystals."

Dean rubbed his thumb over JT's forehead, wishing to erase the grimace of pain. He had never coddled the boys, but seeing JT hurt like this was a whole different ballgame. "I know I've always told you to look out for your brothers, but James's abilities are not your responsibility. Understand?"

JT gave a small nod. "You sure he and Max weren't hurt?"

Dean's mouth twitched. "I had to order them to leave. I don't know who pouted more, Max or your Uncle Caleb."

"They're both good at it."

"Everybody needs something to brag about." Dean lifted a brow. "Like a prize winning photograph?"

"Sorry."

"Sneaking out alone in the middle of the night wasn't the smartest move."

"I know."

"I'm all for chalking up losing an organ to a natural consequence of your poor choice, but your Mom might be a different story."

JT gulped. "An organ?"

"You now have joined me and your Uncle Caleb in the ranks of the spleen less."

"Wow." JT looked down at his side. "Spirits are really bad news."

Dean squeezed his shoulder. "Next time you come up against one, you'll be ready."

There was a disturbance in the hall, the sound of pounding feet. JT smiled for the first time since waking up. "Jimmy."

"JT?" James burst through the door coming to stand in front of Dean by his brother's side. "You're awake!"

"Crank it down a notch, Dude." Dean shook his head at his youngest son's boisterousness.

"Inside voice, Jimmy!" Caleb yelled as loudly as James. He entered the room, Max on his heels. "And what's with the running? We didn't raise you in the woods."

"What's with the _we _stuff, Damien?" Dean stood, smirking at his best friend, who was as bad if not worse than the boys. "It's not like we're married."

"Dude," Caleb folded his arms over his chest. "Face it. We're a little married."

"Good to see you finally manned up, Winchester." Max circled around the other side of the bed, taking position on JT's right. "James and I thought you were going to wuss out on us."

"Give me a break, guys," JT said. "I lost a spleen."

"Cool." James climbed onto the bottom of the bed. "That so trumps Max's appendix."

"It is not cool." Dean reached out and ruffled his youngest son's hair. "Heathen."

"Is it in a jar somewhere?" Max took a seat on the other side. "We could start a collection to put in our dorm room. Chicks might dig it."

"I don't know," JT replied around a yawn.

"Ben could probably get it for us," James said. "He's like in Dr. Patel's back pocket."

"The ultimate would be a kidney, or maybe a lung," Max said.

"Enough with the organs," Dean said. He understood the boy's pent up energy and their excitement at seeing JT. Their solemn behavior from before had been unnatural, but at this rate they were going to be thrown out of the hospital. "Let's cut down on the excitement before the doctor and Juliet comes in."

Caleb slapped Max on the back of the head. "Trust me. Normal girls will not find anything pickled in a jar of formaldehyde cool."

"Since when does our family attract anything normal?" Max said.

"How about you guys have a contest to see who can keep the most organs on the inside of their body." Caleb gestured from James to Max. "Extra points if you two hold onto your spleens."

"What's in it for us?" James asked.

"Good health and longevity not reason enough?" Caleb asked.

"Winner takes the latest Ferrari or Lamborghini when The Knight kicks it." Max lifted his hand.

James slapped it. "Sweet."

"Way to use their competitive nature, Damien."

"Got to play to the strengths." Caleb made his way around to JT. He placed his hand on the kid's head. "How you doing, Johnny?"

"Better."

"Good." Caleb winked at him. "Because you know you're my favorite. It all goes to you when the Knight kicks it."

"Yeah." JT smiled again. "I know."

"You suck." Max looked at James. "I'm not sure we should even give it to him now. He's getting way too much attention as it is. This wounded thing is a racket."

"Give me what?" JT shifted, perking up at the mention of a gift. Dean looked at Caleb who raised his hands to surrender any part he might have played.

"The present Max and I bought."

Caleb cleared his throat.

James rolled his eyes. "The present we bought with Uncle Caleb's credit card."

Dean laughed. Caleb didn't want blame but he was not willing to give up the recognition. "What is it?"

James pulled the bag from behind his back, carefully placing it by his brother. "Open it."

"My camera." JT carefully pulled out the familiar Nikon. "You saved her."

"Of course we did." Max nodded. "No one gets left behind, even if it is a guy's totally replaceable piece of inanimate equipment that he has an unnatural affection for."

"But that's not the present," James said, bouncing slightly. "Check out the new strap."

Dean placed a hand on James's shoulder to keep him still. He wondered what Caleb had let them have for dessert. "Let's keep the action to a minimum."

JT ran his fingers over the soft black woven material. "Wow."

"It's hemp," Max said, bobbing his eyebrows. "Turns out Asheville is known for it."

"Damien?"

"It's better than the glass bong Christmas ornament they wanted to get."

"It reminded us of Pastor Logan," James added. "Now we know why he likes to hang out here. We thought you could always remember our first hunt."

"Excuse me?" Dean was all for making JT feel better but didn't want the boys thinking any part of their latest adventure could be repeated.

"Even if said hunt was completely accidental and in no way our fault." James was quick to clarify. He avoided his father's scrutiny. "Right, Max?"

Max gently bumped JT's knee. "And you say I don't know when to shut up, J."

"Thanks guys, it's awesome."

"We kind of owed you," James said.

"You saved us out there," Max added. "Although throwing yourself in harm's way shouldn't become a habit."

"That sounds like sage advice," Dean said. He was proud of JT, the way he put others before himself. It was a double-edged sword. Obviously a trait one would want in a Guardian, but a burden when the person was your son.

"Just the kind of advice your old man ignored every time I gave it," Caleb said. "In fact, he still does."

"Shut up, Damien."

"I didn't really do anything," JT replied. "We were caught off guard."

"You should have seen your old man the first time he faced down a poltergeist," Caleb said. "He ran away from home, showed up at my place looking worse than you, kiddo."

"Thanks for sharing, Damien. How about we just focus on the future?" Dean looked at the boys. "I promise you'll not be in the same kind of situation again."

"Does that mean we're closer to getting our hunter rings?"

"No, Max," Caleb said. "It most certainly does not mean that."

"Then what, Dad?" James asked. He turned around, resting back beside his brother. "More training?"

"How about we start with a story?"

"Does it have dragons in it?" James asked.

"No, it has angels and demons."

James rubbed his hands together. "Even better."

"Let's hear it." Max got comfortable on the end of the bed. "I want to know more about this creep Malachi Harris."

"When we're all home-together." Dean motioned to the door. JT seemed to be having a hard time keeping his eyes open. They didn't need to tire him out, so soon after waking up. "Damien."

Caleb squeezed JT's shoulder. "I think that's our cue to head out. Get some rest, Johnny."

"Can I stay, Dad?" James asked.

Dean helped his youngest son off the bed, pulling him in for a quick hug. JT's doctor would need to examine his patient, and JT wouldn't rest with his brother in the room. "In the morning, Dude."

"Does Ben get to stay?" James started.

"Who cares, Dude. Let Ben sleep in a chair," Max said. "Uncle Caleb's springing for the Hilton."

"Who says?" Caleb propped his hands on his hips.

"Why not?" Max grinned. "It's right next to the airport and we have to pick up Dad."

"Do you think it has a pool?" James asked. "Hey! We can get room service."

"Out. Now." Dean pointed to the door. His sons rarely stayed away from home, unlike he and Sam who had grown up in motels. It was a rare novelty. "Scheme later."

"Let's go, boys." Caleb headed out of the room.

"Hang in there, J." Max squeezed JT's wrist. "We'll sneak you some food in the morning from their killer continental breakfast."

"Don't let Ben catch you," JT said. "He's in full-on doctor mode."

James hesitated at the bed, picking at a piece of nonexistent lint. "I'm really glad you're not dead, big brother."

JT smirked. "I love you, too, Jimmy."

James groaned. "God, you're such a girl."

"Bye, James," Dean said, giving his youngest a small shove to get him moving. "Listen to your uncle."

"Bye, Dad," James called over his shoulder. "See you in the morning."

"The emo stuff gets him moving pretty quick." Dean turned to JT once James had left. "Your mom and I will have to remember that."

"Easier than arguing with him." JT blinked, holding his side to manage a restrained yawn.

"You're pretty smart, Sport." Dean reclaimed his seat on the bed. He picked up the camera. "I"ll put this somewhere safe for you. I wouldn't want you to lose that Pulitzer shot."

"I put us all in danger, all in the name of my decisive moment."

"Not on purpose."

"Maybe I should give it up, start concentrating more on the things that are important."

"Photography is important to you. It's part of who you are." Dean knew things had to change, but he wasn't willing to sacrifice his children's dreams. "I set aside baseball for hunting and there aren't many days that go by that I wish I hadn't."

"Maybe I'll play for the Sox one day, do it for both of us."

Dean smiled at the thought. Baseball was an important connection to JT, sort of like what Dean and his dad had with cars. "Whatever you do, Kiddo, I'll be proud of you. Besides you never know when your talents will come in handy in the field. Max told me you swung that shovel like the bases were loaded in the bottom of the ninth."

JT shrugged off the praise. "It would be cool if I could have used my camera, snapped a picture of the ghost. We might have been able to find out who he was, put him to rest."

Dean lifted the camera to look through the lens. JT had a unique perspective, not only in how he saw the world, but how he viewed people in general. It was going to make him a different type of Guardian than his father, just as Dean was a different leader than Pastor Jim. "That's not a bad idea. Pictures would be better than descriptions in a journal. Who knows? You might be the first world renowned supernatural photographer."

JT opened his eyes wide with excitement of the potential. "Maybe that could be my contribution to hunting. I could do a book like Henri Cartier Bresson."

Dean felt the weight of the camera in his hand; carefully he wrapped the new strap around it. He was beginning to understand the differences between fathers and sons weren't as important as the things they had in common. It wasn't a reaction to an event, a change in thinking that took place in a fraction of a second. It was more of a settling in, a wearing away, realizing the truth that had always been there. "I believe whatever you bring to The Brotherhood will make the world a better place than it would have been without you."

In the end, it was with hope all good fathers let their sons go, sending them into the unknown armed only with their love and the faith that their sacrifice would not be in vain.

RCJ

September, 20009

Acknowledgments: I must admit I stole one of my favorite lines from Scrubs. If you're a fan of that show, I'm sure you caught it. The dragon question was inspired by my four year old who upon seeing her Dad's new school for the first time this summer came up and demanded to know where all the dragons were. Apparently, it was the moment she had been waiting for. The dragon is their mascot. He wasn't quite sure how to break it to her that Puff wasn't being lodged out back in the field house, considering his last school was The Knights (I know, ironic) and there was a real knight who rode around on horseback during the games, decked out in chain mail and toting a lance.


End file.
